In the Shadow of the Tyrant

Freystadt Act 2

"I will teach you. But will you learn?"

After a journey of nearly a week getting to the mountain, then ascending to near its peak, Rirosorchalwen had little trouble subsequently stumbling into the one she was told to seek out—a resplendent creature with the body of a massive bird and a regal, canine head occupied much of the open, flat space around the mountaintop. She was overwhelmed by its presence and the wisdom behind the eyes looking down at her. They had no need for introductions, but Rirosorchawlen thought it was the thing to do. Saēna played along, but then wasted no time in getting to work on her student. Upon completing a brief initial explanation…

“What were you expecting? Books with every sort of fantastic creature in this world for you to memorize?”

Of course, that is precisely what the young elf had expected. It was written all over her face and puffed-up cheeks.

“Now, listen—one does not simply memorize every detail of this world’s infinite ancient and arcane magics and traditions, magical beasts, aberrations, and extraplanar beings; Not to mention every single spell and magical item—not unless you have all the time in the world. Not unless you are me. No—instead, you shall learn about the traits and characteristics of a great many things. Careful observation and rational thinking are your tools and I shall teach you to use them.”

Mesmerized, as all things were, Saēna supposed, the elf looked on, wide-eyed and attentive, already in stark contrast to the seemingly immature display from only moments ago.

Hmm, it seems she’s not as hopeless as most of the other lesser creatures. Their often dubious morals are so troublesome, but this one appears to yet posses a pure heart. A nice thing to see in such creatures now and again.

“Now, let’s be off to class, then.”

“…”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Did you forget flying lessons would be included? How else do you think we’re to find your subject matter? It’s not as if I have such things lying around. Come on now.”

Understandably nervous, the little elf climbed onto her teacher’s back and braced herself for the force of such a mighty creature taking flight. They soared over miles of land, moving faster than Rirosorchalwen ever imagined possible. Occasionally, Saēna would remark on the properties of a creature or, rarely, a site below. After a few hours, they returned to the mountaintop.

“I hope you were paying close attention today.”

The elf nodded.

Of course she did.

“Good, because we’ll be going over it all again—in Celestial.”

Rirosorchalwen didn’t know more than a couple words of Celestial, but as she and her teacher went out again each day, usually flying in a different direction or to a greater distance, over the course of the next few months, she learned not only Celestial, but a great deal in terms of the arcane, dungeons, and various planes.

When Saēna was finally finished with her bright little pupil, she had few words of farewell, save a warning:

“Rirosorchalwen, do not forget that knowledge itself is neither good, nor evil. What you do with it is up to you. The same goes for others. Live with a pure heart, but think. Think, but never give up your heart.”

Surely, this one will be tempted. If not by her own demons, then those in the hearts of others. But I have done my job—the rest is hers.

Cast in the light of a flickering campfire, two twisted figures hunched maliciously over a bubbling cauldron. There was no sound bu the whistling of the wind through Blightmoor‘s leafless trees until the larger of the two reached out and thumped the cauldron in an annoyed manner.
“Is this thing working, ”/characters/silvietta" class=“wiki-content-link”>Silvietta?" she screeched petulantly.
“It hasn’t worked since Allison went into the Plane of Shadow, Dorean," the other replied. This exchange had the air of one that had been repeated many times in the past few hours.
“Well sod that, then,” Dorean sat down on a moldering tree stump with a muffled thud.
Just then, the air above the cauldron erupted into a cloud of foul green smoke and Allison descended upon the fire, monstrous black wings beating heavily through the air. Her landing could not be called graceful, but she kept her footing and folded the wings back behind her tattered cloak before turning back to the others, a furious expression on her face.
“Well?!” she snapped, “What’s so important that you called me back here?! I was having an intimate moment with my lover.”
“I wanted to make sure you were dead, you daft old biddy,” Silvietta muttered under her breath.
“What was that, Silvietta?” Dorean asked quickly, suddenly peering suspiciously at the youngest member of the coven.
“I was so worried about you, Allison!” she lied, forcing a smile upon her features, “I just couldn’t stand another moment wonde-”. Silvietta paused as what Allison had said finally caught up to her. "You were having an intimate moment?
Suddenly the witches were rapt with attention, crowding around Allison who, for her part, practically preened in undisguised pride.
“It wasn’t much,” she said with mock humility, “I just saved his life and my beautiful ”/characters/kham-tsenkyo" class=“wiki-content-link”>Kham rewarded me with a kiss."
“A kiss?!” Dorean gasped, lumpy hands clasped over her mouth.
Silvietta leaned forward with an expression of horrified curiosity. “Did he… did he use his tongue?”
“And then some!” Allison proclaimed, beaming with delighht.
“You’ve got to tell us all about it, Allison!” Dorean urged, “Silvietta, go put on the tea.”
Silvietta did so without compaint, and soon the three had steaming mugs in their hands, the two smaller gathered around Allison’s hulking form to hear her tale.

It all started right here, when I saw my love killed and pulled into the Plane of Shadow by those filthy Kytons. Of course, I knew he wasn’t really dead; no man of mine is that easy to kill. Anyway, I teleported straight away to Sakya Nyingma, determined to save him.
It didn’t take me long to find the closest route into the Shadow Plane, and within a few hours I had arrived at the portal. A big, black pair of doors. Would have been impressive, but somebody had left them open so I went right on through. Inside was a cave, all dark and forbidding and I accidentally stepped on a sleeping giant.
He was big and ugly and all patched up with stiches, but the oaf took one look at my face and passed right back out. Stunned by my beauty, no doubt. It was right around then that I ran into Kham’s freands. That airheaded Elf with the black sword was there, Nyrik the paladin, the stuffy half-elf girl, and their pet Sidhe. You know about Nyrik, right Silvietta? Don’t go blushing now, I’ve seen your collection. Anyway, I ran into his friends and, of course, they were so happy to see me that they begged to have me along. I had planned to daringly rescue Kham from Entropy’s Fall myself, but they were just so piteous that I couldn’t bring myself to leave them alone.
Together we travelled through the Plane, and they were all ever so eager to hear my stories about Kham and myself. They flocked around me, drinking in my beautiful voice, until it got so late that I finally managed to convince them to set up camp for the night. That night, as much as you can call it that in the Shadow Plane, passed uneventfully, with just two zombies and a Nightshade that almost ate that Sidhe I’ve been saving for later.
The next “morning”, well rested and refreshed, we kept going and soon we could see Entropy’s Fall in the distance. No doubt awed by having such a distinguished visitor, the Kytons sent out a detachment of honor guards to lead us inside. My demeands to meet with Kahm were instantly agreed to, of course.
As it turns out, Kham had been kidnapped by Sariel, the evil princess of the Kyton nation. Seing his beauty, she was trying to transform him into a Kyton so that she could have him all to herself. After she told us this, though, one glare from me sent her scurrying from teh room like a cockroach. Sariel’s aide, the hideous Dishaad, was not as easily intimidated, and we entered into a mighty battle, with the rest of Kham’s friends and the guards looking on awestruck.
As ashamed as I am to admit it, Dishaad got the upper hand and pinned me to the wall. Just then, the chains holding Kham captive began to creak and groan, then shattered into pieces, as my love laptto my rescue, face grinning and muscles glistening. His fist caught Dishaad across the face so forcefully that his head spun clear around and he fell to the floor dead. Then, Kham swept me manfully into his arms and telported us outside the castle.
The ground under us shook as Entropy’s Fall exploded while, at the same time, Kham kissed me long and passionately on te mouth. Sariel could do nothing but howl in rage and jealousy at our love. Then, you two had to go and call me and ruin the moment!

There was a brief moment of silence around the campfire, broken only by Dorean whistling slowly through her front teeth.
“…Wow,” the lumpy witch said, “That’s just great, Allison.”
“What about the Blodeuwedd?” Silvietta asked.
Allison’s head snapped in her direction, dreamy eyes suddenly filled with rage. “You will not talk about that woman in my presence, young Silvietta.”
“Fine, fine,” the young hag raised her hands in placation, “But did all of that really happen?”
“I might’ve exaggerated here and there, but more or less that’s what happneed,” Allison’s eyes clouded over again, a faraway look to them, “Kham was so dreamy, with his big wet lips and his long, long tongue.”
Silvietta turned and cursed under her breath, pretending to busy herself with the kettle. She was running out of poisons to put in Allison’s tea, and even the Kyton capital on the PLane of shadow hadn’t been enough to kill the hag.
“Daft old biddy,” she muttered.

There was a flash, a short clap of thunder, and a body fell from empty air onto the dark cobblestones below. It lay there motionless for a moment, then stirred, and rolled sprightly to its feet. The dim light of distant torches revealed the figure of a young, handsome Elf, briskly dusting himself off and adjusting his brightly-colored clothing. Beyond his long, golden hair and brief, mischievous grin, he also sported a long, elaborately-patterned scarf, its ends dangling loosely behind him. His clothes were ripped in places and bore some recent bloodstains, but he yet held himself with the elegant poise of a dancer.

The man looked about him, studying his surroundings as if seeing them for the first time, when he was interrupted by the rough approaching scratch of leather boots against the street.

“You there!” two guards peered suspiciously at him from behind their lantern, each one every inch the consummate watchman, “What are you doing out here after curfew?”

Hesitating for but a moment, the Elf fell easily into a well-practiced routine. “Good evening! My name is Awrthyr Gentlestar,” he said, with a grandiose bow, “A simple travelling minstrel. Tell me, what fine city do I find myself in today?”

The guards exchanged a look before one spoke again, distrust heavy in his voice. “Alright, Mister Arthur, I don’t know about any travelling minstrel business, but nobody’s allowed out past sunset, Lord General’s orders.”

Awrthyr gave them an ingratiating smile. “Ah, you see, my name is Awrthyr, not Arthur. It’s got just a bit of a flourish right in the middle the- …Oh,” the tirade was cut short by the brief snap of metal on metal as one of the guards forcibly clasped his hands in manacles. Awrthyr’s surprise lasted only a moment, before it was replaced with a rakish, suggestive grin. “A bit forward, aren’t we? I like where this is going.”

Looking uncomfortable as Awrthyr leaned in closer, the guard cringed as his comrade slipped a black leather sack over their prisoner’s head. “Oh, where are we going? Is it a surprise?” There was a crack as something massive and solid connected with the back of his head, a rush of pain, then darkness.

Awrthyr awoke some time later, sprawled out on an uncomfortable cot and looking at a damp stone ceiling. His head was exploding with pain where the guard had struck it, but testing gingerly with his fingertips, he could not feel any serious damage. With some effort, but no less grace, he swung his feet around and sat up, pausing for a moment as a wave of dizziness overtook him before examining his surroundings.

The walls and floor were hewn of the same rough stone that had greeted him upon his awakening, and rows of heavy iron bars shut off the room’s only exit. A prison, by all accounts. This theory was reinforced by the two hard gray cots fastened to the walls, and the room’s only other occupant, sitting silently and watching him from the other side. A hulking, muscular figure, he sat hunched over, hands clasped before him and his face cloaked in shadow. The barest gleam of light reflecting off his eyes was the only indication of his alertness toward the newcomer.

His headache receding ja bit, Awrthyr smiled and rose swiftly to his feet. “Right then,” he said, gesturing grandly about him, “A prison! I’d love to say it’s my first time in one of htese, but that is sadly not the case.”

The other manponderously stood, unfolding further and further until he towered over Awrthyr in the gloom, a black mountain looming over him. Awrthyr faced him, as if seeing him for the first time. “And you must be my cellmate,” he enthused, reaching up to pat the silent giant lightly on the cheek, “I’m sure we’re going to get along famously!”

There followed a short, dangerous silence, then, like the slow rumbling of an avalanche, the huge man began to laugh. “You’ve got balls, lad,” he said, in a voice like rocks grinding into each other, “I respect that.”

Visibly relaxing, he leaned down to better examine Awrthyr’s smiling visage. “I can see why they’d throw you in here, lad. You look like a fairy if ever I saw one.”

“Well, I do sometimes lean a bit in that direction but I never considered it much of a crime mysel-,” he paused as realization dawned, “Oh, you mean that kind of fairy. Litle wings, sparkles, fluttering about, yes? Are they a problem around here then?”

The other man gave him a long, slow look. “Where are you from, stranger?”

“Oh, here and there, all about the place,” Awrthyr said jovially, deftly uncoiling the scarf from his shoulders, “The scarf, you see. They never check the scarf. Aha!” His questing fingers found a hidden pocket amongst te scarf’s fabrics, and returned with a slim leather volume, filled with every manner of thief’s tools. Smoothly, he drew a lockpick and bent to one kee, fiddling with the lock even as he continued to speak.

“I’ve been in worse situations than this. Once, a servant girl caught me in bed with the youngest daughter of the Khoroushi dynasty. Matriarchal society, warrior women, very fierce and all that. I do love them fierce. Anyway, they threw us all in the most magnificent dungeon I’ve ever seen, walls all made of marble and engraved with grand mosaics, it was like a palace! Ærhyn was furious! We had to use little Foebreaker as a battering ram and crash through the wall to escape. Hold this,” he passed one of the picks to the big man, who palmed it and stood in stunned silence, “A few more jumps and here we were! Ærhyn and the others should be nearby somewhere, I just haven’t- Aha!”

This last was accompanied by a soft lick as the door’s mechanism gave way. Awrthyr stood up, dusting himself off, and wrapped the scar back around his neck, careful not to let it drag on the floor. “Say, I never did get your name.”

“Bergholdt,” the other man replied, still off balance, “Bergholdt Armbruster.” He seemed to regain a bit of his composure and looked about wildly, “You aren’t really trying to escape, are you? Do you have any idea what they’ll do to you if you get caught?”

Awrthyr looked genuinely surprised, as if the thought of continued captivity had never occured to him. “Of course I am,” he said simply, stepping through the now open portal, “Are you?”

Bergholdt placed one leathery hand on the side of the bars and peered out cautiously into the torchlit hall beyond, then back at Awrthyr’s grin. “Freya’s shining tit, you’re serious,” he cursed. Hesitating a moment, his jaw then gained a determined set it had lacked before. “I’ve got a wife and a daughter out there, and these are dark times for Freystadt. …I’l come with.”

Awrthyr’s grin widened and e reached up to place a hand on the big man’s shoulder. “Good answer! Come on then, I’m fed up with being buried down here.”

Sakya Nyingma, Provisional Capital of Shizamu

With a spray of blood and a sickeningly wet thud, the limp body of Kham Tsenkyo landed heavily on the cobbles and did not move. Towering above him, the bloated, multi-limbed abomination that had dealt the blow leered maliciously through a mask of chains. Time seemed to slow as Nyrik, plunging his sword into another of the monsters, turned in horrified realization, his face a mask of anguish and fury. Fending off the other attackers with some of their many limbs, the two remaining Kytons lumbered forward. One of them reached with a clawed hand, touched Kham’s lifeless body and, with a rush of air and a final, horrible chortle, both of them were gone, the corpse with them.

Suddenly alone in the dusty streets of Sakya Nyingma, the remaining members of the Unicorn Brigade slowly lowered their weapons, too shocked to say a word. Silently, the corpses of the two fallen monsters began to dissolve, adding their ichor to the smear of blood now painted across the ground.

The Tyrant’s Castle, Somewhere Above Altun-Ha

The Tyrant’s viewing pool clouded over, Zacharias himself rising slowly from his seat above it. Far from pleased with the gruesome scene he had just witnessed, KARZAK’s brow was instead furrowed in consternation. Following his usual course, he strode down the steps from the viewing platform and began across the hall, his attendant promptly falling in behind him.

“They’ve taken him to the Plane of Shadow, then,” Zacharias said. It was a statement, rather than a question.

“A pity. The boy showed such promise, and now the rest of them are surely going to go after him,” the Tyrant shook his head sadly, “Perhaps I should intervene.”

“My lord, that would not be advisable!” Nicholas stammered, suddenly off-balance, “You know well that the Plane of Shadow is her domain-”

With a hard snap and a rustle of cloaks, KARZAK turned, his hand around Nicholas’ throat and lifting him into the air before the attendant could ract.

“You dare dictate to me where I can and cannot go?!” he roared, voice steady despite its ferocity, “You dare believe that I am incapable of dealing with those beings on the Plane of Shadow should I so choose?”

“No, my lord! No my lord!” Nicholas gasped, the color quickly draining from his face, “I only meant- meant to suggest that- that it would be wise to maintain good relations with our allies!”

The attendant’s wiry body collapsed to the ground with a thud that echoed throughout the chamber.

“You are right, of course,” KARZAK said, his voice level as he clasped his hands behind his back, “Although there are no beings so powerful as to pose such a threat to my standing, it would not be wise to anger such a powerful force at this point in our plans.”

Behind him, Nicholas staggered to his feet, coughing and rubbing the red skin around his neck.

“Continue to watch them,” the Tyrant ordered, a slow smile creasing his mouth, “If they manage to survive this expedition, then perhaps they truly are the heroes I’ve been waiting for.”

Citadel of Bones, Blightmoor

Cast in the light of a flickering campfire, three twisted figures hunched maliciously over a bubbling cauldron.

“What’s he doing now?” the largest one screeched, her bent form significantly bulkier than the others.

“Tell Allison what he’s doing, Silvietta,” the second one ordered in turn, her impressive jowls wobbling with every word.

“He’s just cast Slow on them, Dorean,” the third one said, her figure much more slender and human than the others, though still with a disturbing cast to it.

Allison fixed the second speaker with a single beady eye. “Why’d he go and do that then? Any practitioner worth his salt would know that a Kyton will just shrug that off?”

Peering into the cauldron, the other answered. “Well, it seems to have worked, Allison.”

“What, really?” Allison turned her gaze back into the bubbling waters, then beamed with pride, “That’s my love, always powerful with is magic.”

There was a brief moment of silence as the three stared at the image being projected onto the green liquid.

“What’s just happened, then?” Allison crooned.

“Tell her what’s just happened, Silvietta.”

“He’s just been killed, Dorean.”

The hag called Dorean opened her mouth to chide the younger, but was interrupted by an ear-splitting screech from her left. Allison’s eyes, previously dull,l petulant pinpricks, suddenly flared to blinding embers, whilst a pair of huge, mottled and leathery wings burst forth from her back, further shredding her threadbare robes. Trembling with rage, she bent forward further and gripped the edges of the cauldron, her claws leaving long gouges in the metal.

“They did what?!” Allison cried, the other two witches cringing back from her sudden fury, “No-one! No-one hurts my Kham! I’ll show them! I’ll kill them all!”

This last was accompanied by a frenzied cackle as the monstrous hag’s wings beat once, twice, and lifted her into the air. With surprising agility, Allison cleared the trees, her cackling echoing throughout the forest, before instantly vanishing in a burst of foul smoke.

“Tune up the cauldron to Allison, then,” she said, taking a slow sip, “This should be fun to watch.”

Entropy’s Fall, Plane of Shadow

With another rush of air, the two bloated figures appeared suddenly in an empty mockery of a city square. Clutched in the larger’s misshapen claws hung the limp body of Kham, handled with surprising delicacy.

“Failed. Perhaps we have, but at least we managed to obtain some most…” the Kyton holding Kham lifted him up to leer at him through the mess of chains that covered its face, “…interesting parts for our experiments.”

The other let out what might have been a chuckle, cut short by the sound of footsteps approaching softly on the black cobbles.

“A failure indeed,” the youth said, emerging from the shadows. Chains covered him in several places, serving as his only clothing, but beyond peculiarity and his painfully thin frame, he appeared to be entirely human. “Failure must needs punishing, wouldn’t you say?” he mused, as though pondering a tricky riddle.

This seemed to amuse the two monsters, who exchanged twisted grins with each other.

“As for those parts, as you called him, I do believe Our Lady in Chains will be most interested in meeting him.”

“There may be a chance for you to redeem yourselves in the eyes of our Lady,” the youth continued, slowly walking to the Kytons and stopping just before them.

Without warning, a massive arm, wrapped in chains and fully the size of the city street it occupied, reached swiftly from the shadows and swept up the staring pair into its iron grip. There came a sickening crunch, the sound of metal grinding on metal, and the two Kytons met a sudden and painless end. The youth merely smiled and hefted Kham’s body over his shoulder.

“Then again, maybe there won’t be,” he said simply, and walked out from the square.

The black surface of the pool shimmered, swirled darkly, and an image slowly rose to the surface. Coming into focus were the features of the self-proclaimed Unicorn Brigade, Kham Tsenkyo and Nyrik Albanir at their head, speaking with a pair of steadfast men donning emotionless steel masks. Looking on grimly from his throne above the pool, Zacharias Karnstead waved a hand, freezing the rendition on a view of Nyrik’s handsome features. With a weary sigh, he rose to his feet, stepping down and walking forward, as his attendant immediately fell into step beside him.

“Banding the powers of this world against me,” the Tyrant said wearily, accepting a proffered goblet filled to the brim with wine, “Why do they do it, Nicholas? Can they not see how pointless it all is?”

“I cannot speak for the others, milord,” his attendant replied, clutching a sheaf of papers with one hand and idly stroking his small beard with the other, “That one named Nyrik, however, is a Paladin, and they are well-known to be very stubborn when it comes to facing down evil-”

The goblet in Zacharias’ hand shattered, wine spraying across the wall not unlike a bloodspray. With an involuntary shriek, Nicholas started back, his eyes wide with terror. “I mean to say, milord, that is, that crusaders such has him always face down the odds, no matter how idiotic it may be. To challenge someone of your power, that is.”

He stood motionless for a moment more, head bowed, then the Tyrant’s shoulders shook with a rough chuckle, and Nicholas relaxed. “You are right, of course. Young Nyrik is not the first zealous revolutionary I have met. Let us pray that he offers me more entertainment than the others.”

With that, he strode to the massive window dominating the end of the throne room, attendant following now cautiously behind. Zacharias clasped his broad hands solidly behind his back, looking down at the world spread below him, cities and rivers glittering like jewels. “However, Nicholas, I spoke not of the reason why the defy me. Mortals are always too blind to see that they can only attain their full potential under the rule of one such as I. Rather, I am bothered that they seek to challenge me in such a roundabout fashion.”

Nicholas gave the Tyrant’s back as skeptical an expression as he dared. “Are you suggesting that you’d rather they simply siege the castle as they are? That would be suicide.”

Zacharias nodded, a faint smile briefly upon his features. “Again, you are correct. Simply waiting up here is the part I cannot stand.”

“I believe your patience is well placed, milord. Look at how much they have grown in power since they first met in the laboratory, not even a year ago. Destroying them and retaking this land will be all the better for the wait.”

The Tyrant barked a short laugh. “As usual, Nicholas, you delight in telling me and retelling me my own plans. Now tell me something new. What is your opinion on their current activities in Shizamu?”

Nicholas relaxed a bit more, stroking his beard as his voice fell into an easy drone. “They’ve shown remarkable alacrity in winning over most of the various factions. I’m afraid that Kham presents a rather convincing argument, and has swayed both the Doji and the Monkhbat to his cause. The Tsenkyo clan goes without saying, of course,” he shuffled the papers in his hands, cleared his throat, and continued, “A similar approach did not, however, work on the Hashikawa clan, and there was something of a a snafu there. Hachirou is as reliably insane as always and, though I will not bore milord with the details, the Brigade made quite a mess of it. We can reliably count the Hashikawa on their list of enemies.”

Zacharias nodded solemnly, the goblet and wine reforming smoothly in his hand with a noise like a shower of diamond. Nicholas’ face once again held an expression of terror as the Tyrant took a slow sip. “And what is to be their next move?”

“Er, well, when I said before that the other factions had been swayed, that was not entirely correct. It would be more accurate to say that they have agreed to ally temporarily upon the condition that the Hashikawa family is removed from power. Unsurprisingly, it seems that Hachirou has made few friends. Last we saw they were returning to the capitol, presumably to topple the government there somehow.”

“Interesting. So they mean to lead both the warriors of the Monkhbat and the monsters of the Doji against me. Endovelicus will be thrilled, I’m sure, as will Princess Sariel.”

“Would you like me to send couriers to them, milord?”

Zacharias waved a hand dismissively. “Knowing the Princess, she’s already well aware of the situation. As for Endovelicus, I’m not convinced that he reads any of the messages we send him, or that he can read at all. No, send instead a messenger to Hüseyin. Inform him that he has the Tyrant’s sanction to act as he sees fit. We would not want to make this too easy for the brigade.”

The Golden Herald - Issue #51

Headline Story: Scandal! The High Priestess’ folly.

All our readers are likely familiar with Renate Konstantin. She was, until recently, the High Priestess of Abadar here in Freystadt City, a position which holds a great deal of power and prestige. Due to the events detailed below, however, Lady Konstantin has been forced to leave her position in favor of one at a much lower rank. Until a new High Priestess is selected, Lord Irmin Boehler will be taking over her duties, a man already well-known for the sheer amount of work he handles.

According to an anonymous letter sent to us here at the Golden Herald, these events began when the famous Unicorn Brigade returned from a reconnaissance mission deep in Blightmoor. Nyrik, traveling Paladin slash celebrity, had just defeated a powerful agent of evil, a Grave Knight, and he and his team were returning to Freystadt bearing its armor.

Seeking further information about this legendary “Grave Knight”, we first visited Marquering Archives, Freystadt‘s primary resource for occult knowledge. The Archive’s resident Necromancer, the impressively Clodovicus Van Tonder, refused to comment on the matter, but our own research revealed some astounding facts. Grave Knights are powerful Undead monsters born from the armor of legendary warriors. Most interestingly, a Grave Knight whose body has been destroyed will regenerate it from its armor, making them nigh impossible to kill.

Having understood this, it became clear that the Unicorn Brigade’s actions were no mere trifle. They were indeed bringing a powerful undead monstrosity, or perhaps the potential of an undead monstrosity, directly into the heart of Freystadt. The very thought sounds chills down the spine.

It seems, however, that Major Hannah Köhler had taken measures to ensure the Grave Knight did not begin its horrid reconstruction, and indeed brought the armor to the aforementioned High Priestess Renate Konstantin to be purified. Objectively, this seems like a fine plan. Surely a High Priestess of Abadar would have both the power and the proclivity to destroy a Grave Knight’s armor. Lady Konstantin, however, had other ideas.

That brings us to the second part of this story. Having just returned from the unpleasant business in Stromberg (Golden Herald Issue #46), the Unicorn Brigade was immediately summoned to Dame Winther‘s mansion for briefing on a new, secret mission. Unbeknownst to them, this “secret mission” started with the members of Major Köhler’s squad being drugged, knocked out, and thrown into the deepest reaches of the Pharasmian Catacombs.

Seeking justification for this seemingly heinous act, I personally requested an interview with Dame Winther, to which she graciously accepted. Although we are regretfully unable to include the full content of this interview, it was quickly made clear that Lady Alena is a wonderful person, and that no blame should be levied against her for this incident.

What happened in the Catacombs remains a mystery. Our anonymous source attempted to describe it, with vague references to giants, treasure, and deadly traps, but the description was too disjointed and unbelievable for we at the Golden Herald to include it in good faith. It is common knowledge throughout Freystadt that the giants are well extinct, and, even if they were still alive, the thought of them fitting into the Catacombs is laughable at best.

The important, and now indisputable item gathered from the story is that, while exploring the dungeons, the Unicorn Brigade encountered the very same Grave Knight, bound and shackled in a cell, and apparently awaiting experimentation. Furthermore, under mysterious circumstances, this prisoner escaped, leaving the Catacombs and remaining a threat at large in the outside world.

Although Lady Konstantin was unavailable for interview, it has been determined that her original aim was to use information gathered from the Grave Knight to create an army of unkillable soldiers for Freystadt. No doubt the idea has merit, but the very thought of using necromancy and undeath to achieve such an end is unthinkable. Such a force would be difficult to control at best, and a lethal danger to the country itself at the worst, not to mention the massive political ramifications should the Pharasmians in Livadeia learn of it.

The actions of Lady Konstantin are troubling in themselves, but also disturbing are the circumstances under which the Grave Knight escaped his prison. Did the Paladin Nyrik release him, seeking once again to battle against such a worthy rival? Was it a calculated attack on Freystadt’s security by known foreigner and suspected dissident Kham Tsenkyo? Or perhaps it was a cunning move by Hannah Köhler herself, to remove Renate Konstantin from the picture and create new opportunities on her path for power.

Regardless, the Grave Knight remains a threat to all the good citizens of Freystadt, and we at the Golden Herald can only hope that the monster is dealt with and his armor destroyed, before it is too late.

Do you want to get EXPLOSIVELYPUMPED?! Now, for a limited time, with Steinogg’s S3 Supplements, you too can be a GENETICFREAK! When you take these Supplements, your opponent’s chances of winning DRASTIC GO DOWN! You’ll DO THEM AN EGG!!

THEREYOUHAVE IT. Now with the power of STEINOGG’S S3 SUPPLEMENTS, Nyrik has become a GENETICFREAK, just like STEINOGG! So what are you WAITINGFOR?! Write now and get your STIMULATINGSTRENGTHSUPPLEMENTS before it’s TOOLATE!!

Weekly Gossip Panel: Freychat

Hello, all you fellow gossip lovers, and welcome to Freychat! This has been an exciting week for all those Nyrites and Khampas in Freystadt City, as the ever-popular Unicorn Brigade has finally returned to the capitol. We’ve got a few really juicy pieces of gossip about both everyone’s favorite Paladin and Kham Tsenkyo, the plucky underdog, so let’s get right to it!

Our first bit of news comes from an anonymous tipper, a pale, handsome man who unexpectedly visited our office late at night. He claims that he saw Nyrik Albanir and Lieutenant Elowyn Eberhardt on a date in one of Freystadt’s finest restaurants!

“It was disgusting, they were all over each other,” the mysterious correspondent said, fidgeting around and hiding his face with a flowing black cape, “I swear I’ll have my revenge on that Paladin. Elowyn’s mine, you hear me?! Mine!”

Was this really a date between two of Freystadt’s finest? And who is this mysterious man obsessed with Lieutenant Eberhardt? Other sources say that they too saw Elowyn and Nyrik visiting a bar together and walking around late at night, so there might be some evidence to these rumors after all!

The next piece of gossip comes from an unnamed but frequent correspondent right from the magical Grunewald! Lady S, as she signs her submissions, says that she saw both Nyrik and Kham cavorting about a nearby meadow, surrounded by beautiful women with flowers in their hair. Could it be that our two heroes have a secret faerie harem just outside of Freystadt?! Lady S goes on to say that she saw Nyrik kiss one of the beautiful women, and that both of them gave out gifts, tokens of affection, to the others. Troubling news indeed, for all those faithful Nyrites and Khampas out there!

Those are our two big stories, but here’s some more tidbits of gossip for those who can’t get enough!

Kham and Major Rirosorchalwen enroll together in the White Wyvern Society! Magical peers, or something more?

Read again next time for even more pieces of great Freystadt gossip, and be sure to write in if you hear any juicy rumors of your own!

Freychat Lead Editor – Miya Appleton

The Golden Poll

Hello, hello, good readers. This issue we’ve got a very special poll, especially for all you ladies. Without further ado:

Freystadt’s Most Eligible Bachelor

Nyrik Albanir – A travelling paladin of Serenrae, Nyrik is known for his exotic blonde hair, dashing good looks, and willingness to always help. A local celebrity, Nyrik is also said to have vanquished several powerful evil creatures in the service of the Freystadt Military.

Gilbert Hardwin – Member of the elite squad of military leaders, the Golden Fist, Gilbert also serves as head strategist for the country of Freystadt. Known for his glasses, handsome features, and laid-back attitude, he’s also rumored to be able to hold his own in a fight.

Royle V. Honeycutt – Freystadt’s most charming postman, Royle was the scion of the wealthy Honeycutt family and rumored to be a genius in both leadership and economics, but suddenly threw it all away in favor of just delivering the mail. His dasking good looks, pristine white uniform, and tousled red hair are a temptation for Freystadt housewives everywhere.

Timoteus Scrier – A ranking member of the Lindwurm Order, the elite cadre of knights serving as the Lord General’s personal guard, Timoteus is better known as an incorrigible skirt chaser. Having inherited the elegant good looks of his Elven ancestors and the rugged musculature of his Human forebearers, he is often seen chasing Lysistrata Rose across Freystadt, spouting poetry and offering up a rose from his lapel.

Kham Tsenkyo – A hapless foreign Wizard from the Northeastern country of Shizamu, Kham isn’t exactly the most handsome man, but his dark skin and long braided hair give him an exotic appeal. Kham is known for his deep friendship with the Paladin Nyrik and has also performed many great services for the country of Freystadt. Although seemingly cursed with misfortune, his magical prowess is undeniable.

Freystadt Act 2 Begins!

Our heroes have defeated the evil Hannibal Woden, and put an end to the threat caused by Tyrant’s Redoubt. Though powerful in his own right, the lich proved to be merely a pawn of KARZAK himself, who has made an explosive return to the continent of Corisande, conjuring a massive floating castle in the center of Altun Ha. Already the Tyrant and his four Divine Generals have begun raising forces, intent on conquering the world once again.

Meanwhile, Freystadt prepares for war. A strong tradition of militarism has made their nation the most well-prepared for KARZAK’s return, and the Lord General now sees it as Freystadt’s duty to unite the rest of the nations into a determined resistance. However, just to the North, Shizamu has erupted into civil war, various factions vying to fill the power hole created by the nation’s economic collapse. Thus, the Unicorn Brigade is faced with an impossible mission. They must infiltrate Shizamu and single-handedly quell the civil war, all the while ensuring that whatever faction ends up on top is willing and able to ally with Freystadt against the Tyrant’s threat.

The flames of the war camp at his back, casting shadows throughout the tent, Endovelicus sat and pondered. A tiny desk seemed to almost cower in front of his huge frame, its surface covered in sheaves of blank paper. Tentatively, gauntleted hand shaking, Endovelicus slowly maneuvered a quill to the paper and, with intense concentration, began to scratch out a letter.

“M”

He leaned back to admire his work. It was a good start. M was a good letter, sturdy and strong. Endovelicus allowed himself a small glow of pride, and started work on the next letter.

“MY”

Two letters. A single word. This wasn’t so hard. His subordinates who told him to let them write the report were obviously just wanting to hog all the glory to themselves. KARZAK had demanded reports, and as his loyal general, it was an honor for Endovelicus to comply. Several scratches and false starts later, he had his first sentence.

“MY LORDKARZAK”

The Genocide General leaned back, satisfied with his work. Most battles are won with the first strike, and as first sentences go, this one was a masterful stroke. Steeling himself, he prepared to write the next letter. Steadying the paper with his left hand, and holding the quill with his right, he grabbed the inkwell with his other hand and carefully dipped the quill in it. Pausing for a moment, he pondered his next move.

“MY LORDKARZAK,

TH—-"

A tiny crack cut through the air as the quill snapped between Endovelicus’ gauntleted fingers. Seething with sudden rage, he managed to steady his fist and quench the flames that had burst into existence around it. As his attention wavered, with a horrible, slow inevitability, the inkwell fell from his hand and splattered across the note.

The small desk splintered under the force of Endovelicus’ fist, reduced to kindling which immediately set alight under the head radiating from his armor. Again and again, he pummeled the desk, all four arms moving like pistons and pounding the unfortunate furniture into dust.

Looming above its ruined remains, Endovelicus swept about dramatically, turning his back on the obliterated enemy. Surely writing reports was no job for a general of his stature. He would have one of his lieutenants take care of it immediately. A fine idea, as expected from a strategic genius like himself. Satisfied, but still annoyed, Endovelicus grabbed his weapons and set off to vent his anger.

"Heeellooo, liiittllle crrreeeaaatuuurrre..."

“Toward the dark part of the forest.”1 That was where she was told to go to meet her new teacher. Before she could ask, her father added with that smile that told her she was in for more than she expected, “From there, I’m sure he’ll find you.”

I hope so, she thought. Things were starting to look a bit scary. There’s a reason why most people stayed away. It wasn’t nighttime, yet darkness had fallen upon Rirosorchalwen. She told herself she wasn’t scared. There were stories about the things you might see if you came this far. She remembered them from her books, but never actually thought about what she’d do if she encountered the kind of frightening beasts she expected lived here. It was a terrifying thought. I’m a big girl now and big girls aren’t scared. Saying it didn’t really help.
As she pressed on, she noticed a mist starting to appear on the forest floor. Every few steps it got thicker and rose higher. After about twenty feet, she realized she’d made a mistake. This isn’t mist—it’s smoke! If something were on fire, she’d have noticed already. It didn’t seem to be moving, so she continued walking, curious now as to its source. It smelled… different. This wasn’t how normal burnt things smelled. Could this be some kind of magic? Curiosity mixed with fear as she realized any number of evil things might be waiting for her to lose herself in the smoke before falling upon her. Wait, which way was I going? Something felt off. Rirosorchalwen noticed she could no longer discern her direction. As it occurred to her that now would be the time to turn back, she realized she couldn’t.
She paused for a moment, considering what she might do. But before she could think, she heard them—the sound of three creatures moving around her. Not just moving. Surrounding. She reached for her shortsword. “Who’s there?”, she demanded. She thought she sounded intimidating. From the smoke, three figures appear around her, each about six and a half feet tall—at least a head taller than herself. At first glance, the figures appeared to be women, but it quickly became clear that they only used to be. Rirosorchalwen could barely make out their blotched and bruised skin, but had no trouble at all noticing the empty sockets that used to house eyes. In response to her challenge, they opened their mouths, but could only hiss and cackle—they had no tongues. Not good. Rirosorchalwen considered which one she might attack first, perhaps throwing them off guard and allowing for an escape. But she had no idea which way to go. The hags advanced slowly. They were about twenty feet away, still mostly obscured by the smoke, apparently relishing in the opportunity before them. Rirosorchalwen cursed the smoke around her. Somehow it was preventing her from thinking straight. This has to be their doing. Why are they moving so slowly? Before she could realize the smoke was affecting the hags as well, one of them charged. Creak. No one had time to notice the sound. Rirosorchalwen raised her weapon to meet the coming threat. Then came a sound like an explosion and, before her eyes, the hag seemed to disappear. In its place was a large trunk, about as wide as a person, but oddly proportioned and formed from knotted wood. Beneath the mass of wood, she could see the hag… well, some of it. Actually, most of it now seemed to be strewn about where it had just been standing. The shock of what she just witnessed drowned out the earth-shaking sound of the former threat being crushed ten feet away from her. Creeeak. She tried looking up at the… tree? Or was it a large branch? The force of the impact had blown much of the smoke away, but it quickly began to fill back in. As she followed the shape to its source, it began to move. The smoke was thicker than ever now. She could barely see, but it was hard to miss the knotted wood rise above her and smash the ground again, this time in a different area about twenty feet away. Isn’t that where a hag… There was the sound of another explosion, followed by what could only be the start of a scream before it was cut short. A third explosion. Same spot. This time, she managed to fully comprehend the volume of the strikes. What could possibly…? Again, she thought it wise to leave. Still unsure of which way was the correct one, she turned around and began to run. Creeeak. A few steps later, she almost ran into something, but managed to stop just a couple feet before running into it. Oh, the third hag. She was expecting it to attack her with the same hiss as before. Instead, the only sound it made was a scream. Later, Rirosorchalwen would swear it sounded almost like a twisted, gurgling “Nooooooooooo!”, before being smashed into the ground like the others in an explosion that almost knocked Rirosorchalwen off her feet. In front of her was the same tree… something… as before. This time it didn’t move, but she could hear a faint creak. The smoke began to fade a bit and she looked up, following the shape in front of her and over her head to a larger shape behind where she stood. As she had suspected, the thing that crushed the hags was indeed a tree… or part of one. The “arm” part to be precise. Looking behind her now, and up several feet, she saw a large face looking down at her. Spread across it was the biggest smile she had ever seen. “Fooooooliiishhh haaagsss”2, he spoke with a lazy drawl.

Apparently, Rirosorchalwen was never in any danger that night, as it was not she who had wandered into hag territory, but they who had carelessly chosen to enter the nearly thirty-foot tall kapre’s. That was the proper name for this huge tree who was her new instructor, although he introduced himself as “Oakfist”. He even admitted that he came up with the name himself, so Rirosorchalwen wasted no time thinking about the implausibility of such a name being given normally. It’s still pretty cool, she thought. Roots and branches knotted across his body to form what looked like muscles and his many ember-like eyes burned with a warm glow. Rirosorchalwen wondered if trees even needed muscles or if it was just a convenient coincidence. What he didn’t need, she thought, was that thing in his mouth—the source of his constant smoke and her annoyance. It was about two feet long and burned slowly, apparently wrapped in some kind of special material and containing a particular kind of leaves. A “cigar”, he called it. With it, Oakfist could usually confuse those entering his territory, allowing him to catch them off guard after assessing any threat. He meant no harm to good creatures, but this deep in the forest, nasty things were everywhere. According to him, kapres are mostly pacifists, but somehow she got the idea that he was an anomaly who simply used his circumstances as an excuse for getting into fights with evil creatures. He clearly enjoyed it, as she learned over their many excursions. As it turned out, the stories about the deeper forest being plagued with all sorts of threats were very true. However, thanks to Oakfist’s patrols—who was somehow even faster than she was—most were tracked down and smashed into the earth or beaten badly enough that they kept away for a while. It might seem odd for a creature so big to teach one so much smaller than itself to fight, but he was certainly not lacking in enthusiasm. One may even think the sight of a huge tree and a young elf rushing through the forest to brawl a pack of leucrottas or troop of baregaras comical if the fate of the forest didn’t potentially hang in the balance. Nonetheless, it didn’t seem as if anything could match Oakfist and he made sure to have plenty of fun as he taught Rirosorchalwen how to fight without the weapons she was used to.

Eventually, however, she had to ask, “What happens when I try to fight something as big as you alone? It doesn’t matter how strong I am then, does it?” Oakfist nodded and opened his mouth to speak, cigar holding its usual position. Why doesn’t it ever fall out of his mouth!?“Ssstrrrooonnng nnnooo mmmaaatterrr. Fooollooowww Oooaaakfiiist.” Rirosorchalwen followed the tree to a medium-sized pond in a relatively safe part of the forest. “Fiiight liiike theeem”, he said, motioning to a group of cranes standing around the edge of the water. “Like a bird?”, she asked. Birds usually got eaten or flew away, she thought. “Nnnooot liiike biiirrrd”, Oakfist explained. “Liiike thooossse biiirrrd.” She didn’t quite get it, but he did seem to know what he was talking about, so she approached one of the cranes. It turned its head to look at her. She turned around to her teacher. “I don’t want to hurt them…”, Rirosorchalwen started to object, but was cut off by Oakfist’s thundering laugh. “HAAAHAAA!!!” Each sound was drawn out in a way that would have sounded very unnatural for a normal creature, but she had gotten used to his speech by now. “Tooouuuchhh biiirrrd iiif caaannn!”, he continued laughing to himself and, rather loudly, sat himself down as if preparing for a show. The cranes didn’t seem to mind. Rirosorchalwen figured if Oakfist wasn’t worried about her hurting the birds, they would be ok if she just held back a bit.
Lunging for the one in front of her, she knew she was too close for it to get away by flying. Instead of her grabbing it, the crane moved its head out of the way and spread its wings, knocking her arm back. Heeeyyy! How did it…? Okay, maybe a wing… The crane stepped aside and hit her arm with one of its claws. Behind her, Oakfists laughter grew noticeably louder. Hmmm. Maybe if I grab its whole body at once… She dove, but the crane dodged backwards and pecked her in the head with its beak as she fell into the shallow water. Ow! She instinctively drew her hand to her head, feeling the area that was just poked. Oakfist was clearly enjoying this, almost rolling over as he held his sides and laughed his slow, loud laugh. Rirosorchalwen began wringing out her clothes as well as she could. A few moments later, Oakfist managed to somewhat compose himself. “Leeeaaarrrnnn mmmooovvve liiike biiirrrd. Thhheeennn nnnooo ooonnne tooouuuchhh yyyooouuu.” And so, for the next several weeks, Rirosorchalwen returned to the lake each day after her studies and watched the cranes.

Sometimes Oakfist came to watch, other times he was indisposed fighting this-and-otherworldly creatures. One day, apparently satisfied with her progress, Oakfist told her to return the next day with a weapon. She had become quite accustomed to not using one now, but remembered that they were also part of her overall training. “Leeeaaarrrnnn gooooood trrriiick”, he promised, followed by a big smile.
And so she arrived the following day, sword in hand. “You’re not gonna tell me to fight them with a sword, are you?”, addressing the mighty tree who was waiting for her. “Nnnooo fiiight biiirrrd tooodaaayyy. Fooolllooowww.” Relieved that she didn’t have to swing a sword at the poor cranes, although she wasn’t sure at least one of them didn’t deserve it, Rirosorchalwen started to worry when her teacher led her deeper into the forest than she had ever been. She knew there was a reason why he didn’t have her accompany him to this part before. As they marched, Oakfist brought up something they’d never discussed previously, “Eeelllf mmmaaagiiic gooooood, yyyeeesss? Yyyyooouuu stuuudyyy mmmuuuchhh.”“Umm, yes, my parents make sure I practice a lot. I’m not sure I’m very good though.”“Oooaaakfiiissst heeeaaarrr yyyooouuu gooooood liiightnnniiinnng.”
Rirosorchalwen blushed slightly and smiled. “I’m better at those, I suppose. But it’s hard to use spells and a weapon.” She placed a hand on the sword at her side, wondering what would be expected of her today. Oakfist merely nodded with approval, puffing contentedly on his cigar.
A couple hours later, they stopped. creeeak. Oakfist knelt down to whisper to Rirosorchalwen. “Eeelllf mmmaaagiiic gooooood. Ooonnniii aaalllsssooo mmmaaagiiic. Caaarrrefuuulll”. It wasn’t much of a whisper, but he did his best. Motioning to a cave just within sight, Rirosorchalwen tried to discern what it was she was meant to see. There was a light coming from within the cave. It looked like someone had built a fire within. “Ooonniii iiinnnsssiiide. Nnnooo beeelllooonnng heeeerrrre. Mmmooovvve liiike biiirrrd. Wwwaaatchhh ooonnniii mmmaaagic. Dooo wwwhaaat ooonnniii dooo. Nnnooo wwwooorrrrrryyy. Oooaaakfiiissst wwwiiithhh yyyooouuu.”
So she was to fight this “oni”, learning something from it in the process. She wasn’t sure if that meant she was to face this creature alone—if she even could. Still, she aimed to do her best and not let her teacher down.
Entering the cave, she stood tall, like she had learned from the cranes. Oakfist approached with unexpected grace, making only slight tremors with each step, stopping before the entrance, nodding her onward. Rirosorchalwen didn’t have to wait long to find out what this oni looked like. She never saw one before and would have thought it some kind of ettin due to its two heads. It stood about fourteen feet tall and was facing the back wall. It soon sensed her presence though, grabbing a double axe before turning to face her. Recognizing an intruder, one of the heads roared in rage. If she hadn’t already planned to wait before initiating her attack, this sight would have certainly given her pause. One of its heads looked like that of a typical brutish humanoid and yelled something at her in a language she didn’t understand. The other head had three eyes and was adorned with tattoos and gems. Weird. The second head didn’t speak, but the arm not holding the axe made some motions she recognized. It’s casting a spell. A moment later, the head of the axe in the other hand erupted in electricity. Whoa! How did it do that? She didn’t have time to think about it as the oni charged, swinging its axe back and forth. The cave had plenty of room, so the oni’s movements were unobstructed, but Rirosorchalwen’s relative small size did provide some advantage dodging the large creature’s attacks. She had to fight back though. Then, she remembered what Oakfist said. Holding her free arm in its defensive posture, she motioned with her hand like she had seen the oni do. Unlike other times she had cast the spell though, this time she tried to focus the casting into her sword.
Electricity burst forth, surrounding her blade the same as the oni’s. That seemed to catch it off guard, causing it to momentarily hold its attack. It worked! She figured that was as good a chance as any. Rirosorchalwen moved to strike, but the oni quickly recovered and swung again with its superior reach. She let the axe come, catching its uncharged haft with her forward free hand, deflecting the weapon and striking back with her blade. Got him! Her sword hit its mark, discharging the held electricity. It didn’t seem to do much…
Behind her, Rirosorchalwen heard Oakfist’s stomping approach. From the corner of her eye, she saw a knotted arm the size of the oni itself connect with its upper half, sending the oni crashing into the cave wall. Oakfist could barely fit in the large cave, but wasted no time pressing the assault and obliterating the oni before it could recover. She wondered if he might bring the cave down around them. Either way, she decided it best to give him his space…
Outside the cave, Rirosorchalwen waited for her teacher to exit. She didn’t have to wait long. After a few moments of smashing, he returned with a triumphant grin. “Diiid gooooood! Leeeaaarrrnnn gooooood trrriiick?”“Yeah, I had no idea I could do that!”“Oooaaakfiiissst knnnooowww.”“I guess I’m still not good enough to fight an oni by myself though…”“Haaa haaa! Liiittllle ooonnne nnnooot fiiight ooonnniii fooorrr looonnng tiiimmme. Sssooommme daaayyy. Tooodaaayyy juuussst leeeaaarrrnnn iiisss gooooood.”Yes, that was enough for today, wasn’t it? As they headed back toward home, Rirosorchalwen reflected on what she had learned and wondered what excitement tomorrow would bring.

KARZAK,

Tyrant, buddy, friend. Welcome back. I know I owe you a favor for that nasty business a few centuries ago, and here I am to pay you back. No need to worry, I know I’m not the most trustworthy person but, hey, my help can’t hurt right? Look, to show willing, I’ve made you a little dossier on each of those adventurers you’ve had your eye on. You probably know most of this already, but I figure that even you can’t be everywhere at once. You can’t, can you? Anyway, I’ve been watching these guys for a while and, let me tell you, they’re really entertaining. Without further ado!

Hannah Köhler

Köhler’s the leader of this merry little band and, in case you hadn’t noticed, she’s a fairy. One of those Sidhe you made back when you were ruling here, actually. Man, is that ironic. Your own creation, rising up against you and all that. Aren’t they supposed to not have souls? Doesn’t matter, since she obviously does. Weird.

Anyway, Köhler doesn’t seem like much, and if I know you it’s going to be all about how you can swat her at any time and all that drivel, but you probably shouldn’t just write her off. I don’t have to remind you about what she did to that storm giant zombie you were so proud of, do I? Not even mentioning how much damage she managed to do to you in that last fight. Damage, to you! Boy, that was hilarious.

I did some research, and nothing so far has really been able to take her out. I mean, I know that she’s like a bug and really easy to ignore, but it’s still impressive. At least a little. Right? Even Hannibal’s lightning just seemed to faze her a little bit. She makes friends easily too, lots of allies. Not the biggest threat to you, nah, but the little fairy’s something to watch out for.

Rinfanfannal

Let me tell you, the paperwork for this broad is a mess. Her records all say Rinfanfannal, and her friends call her “Riwen”, which must be short for it. Weird name for a woman, though. Doesn’t suit her, yeah? Lacks elegance. Anyway, Rifnafnaffle here is going to be a pretty big problem. I don’t have to tell you she got Medegyl somewhere, and you know what’s going to happen if you lock swords with her in battle. ZAP! BOOM! That’d only be the beginning!

That whole bit aside, Riwen’s been a real pain in the metaphorical side of whatever it is she ends up fighting. From what I can gather, trying to hit her is like trying to punch the wind, and that sword of her stings. Well, of course it does, it’s Medegyl, but she’s doing some magic of some sort to make it hurt even worse. In a few cases, she’s just blown the opposition straight into pink mist. Entertaining to watch. Bad for us.

Doesn’t seem like she’d be very able to deal with the more subtle magics, though. I know that isn’t quite your specialty, you being the more giant-impressive-castle kind of mage, so I’d suggest getting some support and, maybe, just maybe, try to take her out before she gets any more powerful. I know you love to watch the little heroes run around and adventure and fight your minions, but y’know, I could take care of her at any time. Just say the word.

Kham Bloody Tsenkyo

Now just look at this guy. Hero of the freakin’ day. Kham Tsenkyo, singlehandedly saving the Golden Fist. Sacrificing himself to rescue his comrades. Makes me sick.

In all seriousness, though, Kham Tsenkyo’s powerful and clever and all that, but he’s a Wizard. Now I don’t want you to get a big head or anything, Mister Tyrant, but seems to me that any mage, no matter how accomplished, is going to have a hard time dealing with your whole millenia of magical research thing. He’s probably the least of your worries right now. Just give him a good feeblemind or something and that’ll be that.

His familiar is pretty cool though. Swell guy.

Nyrik Albanir

If there’s anybody I hate more than Kham Tsenkyo in this little report of mine, it’s this Nyrik prick. Second chances, rainbows, and bunnies galore. Just keep him away from me, he’d probably try to make me atone for my sins or something. It’d be really annoying.

This Nyrik, he’s another problem. This here’s a man who’s made a career out of kicking evil’s collective ass. Andronikos is proof enough of that, and Hannibal, and pretty much every other thing this guy has smited into the ground. Now, I know that you’re sensitive about your alignment, but you’ve got to know that you detect as evil now. Heck, you’ve got friends like me, and that’s proof enough. Bottom line, watch out for him.

I’d recommend getting him assassinated by Aysu if he becomes more of a threat. She’s still stubbornly neutral and all that, unless she’s taken a plunge recently. That neutral broad and two swords in Nyrik’s chest ought to be enough to shut him up.

Elowyn Eberhardt

Elowyn Eberhardt, a broad who’s so Freystadtian she’s even got the whole “dt” business at the end of her own name. Now she may not seem like she’s really worthy of your attention. I mean, her whole bit is her skill with that fancy sword, and it’s just another Kham scenario. How is she going to best you, with your thousands of years of expertise?

What makes Elowyn interesting though, is that, far as I can tell, she downright hates the rest of her squad. You may have noticed that those adventurers are pretty far and away from what you’d expect from Freystadt, and miss Eberhardt is as Freystadt as you can get. Yeah, doesn’t mix well.

So I propose, we use this against them. Use that monstrous machine they call a bureaucracy to get her on our side. With enough official papers or orders from the right places, she could be our mole, assassin, personal entertainment, whatever the heck we wanted, yeah? Think about it, and I’ll make it happen.

Reginald Thornebottom

Reginald Thornebottom. I can’t find anything on Reginald Thornebottom. He isn’t in the records, nobody knows that name, and heck, Thornebottom? Who does he think he’s kidding with a name like that? The way I see it though, that doesn’t matter too much.

We saw him fighting those lumberjack twits, and then Hannibal after that, among other things, and, just like Elowyn, it’s the skill at arms thing. Nobody who just focuses on a weapon is going to really threaten you, and we can’t find any information on it, so why worry?

I like his hair though. Unique. It’s a wonder they let him get away with that in the military.

So there you have it, little nifty dossiers on all your most fearsome enemies. I know I’m supposed to be working on that Saran country up North, but I couldn’t help myself, these guys are just a total hoot.

Things are going to get interesting from here, so I’ll be in touch. I talked to the Princess the other day, and let me tell you, she is excited to get started. The whole converting and saving people bit is kind of scary though, even to me. I pity the poor sods she gets her hands on.

This should be the last report, other than Endovelicus. Can he even write? I bet he’s going to try. Don’t judge him too harshly, he means well. Who am I kidding? He’s got horrible horrible intentions. That’s what I like about him. Stand-up guy. I’ll stop rambling and let you get back to the whole Tyrant business now. You know where to find me if you need me.

The Third Scion,
Fereydoun

ANYTHINGFORSARIEL! GLORY TO SARIEL!

“I’m sure news has reached you all already. The Hero KARZAK is finally calling in the favor our people owe him! He prefers to be called Tyrant now, and he’s making an explosive return to dominate his home plane! Isn’t it fantastic? Isn’t it wonderful?”

YES! GLORY TO THETYRANT! GLORY TO SARIEL!

“But! Our hero is not that humble! Our hero is far more gracious! He has promised us all the bodies we can carry! All the converts we can transform! All he asks is that we help him destroy a few troublesome cities, and their inhabitants will be ours for the taking. This is hardly such a chore as returning a favor! Nay! This is a blessing from the Demagogues themselves!”

A BLESSINGUPONSARIEL! GLORY TO SARIEL!

“Though the enemies we will now face are merely mortals, we mustn’t grow complacent, my subjects! Remember that our purpose is far from wanton destruction! Nay! We must instead elevate these poor humans to a higher plane! To our level of existence! This is our holy duty, assigned by the Demagogues. Remember in kind! While we may convert any number of our enemies’ mindless herd, it is the leaders, those powerful individuals, who will be the greatest addition to our cause! Focus your efforts upon these, for glory!”

SACRIFICETHEPOWERFUL TO SARIEL! GLORY TO SARIEL!

“Now, my beautiful, loyal subjects! I must ask you to raise up in arms with me! We shall descend upon this world, and bring our gospel to the land of Freystadt! Brothers! Sisters! Together we will elevate these poor, stricken creatures! We shall awaken them to a beautiful new reality! Do I have your support?!”

YES! GLORY TO SARIEL! DOOMUPONFREYSTADT!

My Lord KARZAK,

Firstly, allow me to welcome you back to your home plane. According to my understanding, it has been well over 2000 years since your departure, and both the geography and the political climate have changed significantly in that time. The purpose of this report is to familiarize your Lordship with the current situation, as well as the threats represented by the orders established in your time away.

The land over which your castle now presides is known as “Altun-Ha”. It is a barbaric land, ruled over by little more than warring tribes of Orcs and Humans, with a significant Hobgoblin presence in the Western jungles. Some of the Orcish warlords may object to your new dominion, but so long as they remain scattered and disorganized, they represent no threat to your Lordship or your forces.

To the Northwest of your Lordship’s holdings is a relatively powerful Mageocracy known as Saran. It is an old country established shortly after your departure in honor of the hero Kaiten. Saran is in a period of political turmoil, and as such currently poses little threat. It does, however, boast a large collection of powerful Wizards, and, if allowed to organize itself, could prove to be a significant obstacle in the future. I believe that Fereydoun has requested Saran as a personal target, and I encourage that his request be granted. His manipulative skills, however distasteful, would be instrumental in ensuring that the major powers of Saran do not have opportunity to unite against you.

Directly north of the castle is a country called Livadeia, which was established prior to your departure from this plane. Dedicated to the goddess Pharasma, they were dedicated solely to hunting down and destroying undead, specifically your Lordship’s undead minions. Their ancient hunters destroyed many important undead assets in ages past, but my scouts have reported that recent centuries have seen a significant shift away from military focus. Their current leader, Valerius Sanna is beloved by his people, but holds little power. It is my belief that Livadeia can be safely dismissed as a threat to your Lordship’s rule.

The country directly East of Altun Ha, known as Shizamu, has been thrown into chaos by your Lordship’s return and thus, likewise, can be dismissed as a threat. Several houses, families, and factions are currently vying for power in the turmoil created by the collapse of Shizamu’s economy, and only the Monkhbat sect is actively interested in opposing your Lordship’s power. A group of ambitious half-giants in the Western part of the country has taken the opportunity to form their own faction, calling themselves the Hyakuman-doji. Though disorganized, they are powerful, and could prove to be a useful tool if properly manipulated.

Our largest threat is located directly South of your Lordship’s holdings, the country of Freystadt. I understand that this is the country used to test the world for your Lordship’s return, and your Lordship already has a deep understanding of the threat they pose, but in order to cover all possibilities I will continue with the report. Freystadt is the most organized and militaristic of the five countries, and is easily the greatest military threat. General Endovelicus has been preparing for the inevitable clash with the country, and combined with the troops we will be able to gather from Blightmoor, as well as the possible aid of the Hyakuman-doji, there should be no obstacles to crushing them with superior forces and numbers.

Another concern is the high number of powerful individuals in Freystadt. Their leader, one Sigismund Dreher, holds great status both politically and on the battlefield, and should not be underestimated. His personal guard, the First Knightly Order of the Lindwurm, likewise are each individually powerful enough to present a threat. Aside from these, the group of adventurers that defeated Hannibal Woden are an unpredictable and potentially very dangerous element. I highly recommend dealing with them as soon as possible, before they become powerful enough to significantly impact the coming battles.

In conclusion, my recommendation to your Lordship is to leave Saran to Fereydoun, ignore Livadeia and Shizamu, and focus our efforts on the destruction of Freystadt. General Endovelicus has reported that his forces will be prepared to attack within the month, after which Princess Sariel will commence her own plan. I would like to request that my own forces be separated from hers. The obvious problems aside, I find her… simple eagerness to be rather unsettling. We await your further orders.

Glory to the Tyrant,
Aysu Khoroushi, the Blade of God

I also hope you enjoyed being called “my lord” just then, because that is the last time you’re ever going to be addressed as such by me, in writing, speech, semaphore or any other form of communication. You see, you and I are done, done, done, and I take great delight in saying I’ll never again enter into a contract with a foul hellspawn like you. I thought the Abyss was filled with idiots, but that was before I blundered into employment with your sort and realized that even the most idiotic pitborn looks like a seasoned archmage compared to a devil.

Have you heard from Sessraeseth lately? Of course not; he’s dead. I, of course, betrayed him (which you should have expected, you great ignoramus,) but I assure you that even if I HAD followed his commands like a loyal little tin soldier, his enemies still would have effortlessly obliterated him. From Day One, Sessraeseth’s plan was nothing short of risibly incompetent, and the fact that you thought your underling’s effort would somehow pave the way for a glorious conquest of the Material Plane only proves how deluded you are. You’re not even fit to rule over your pathetic little gutter in Hell.

Your “trusted” lieutenant, Sessraeseth, was one of the most indolent hellspawn I’ve ever had the misfortune of knowing. He took the form of an imbecile named “Karl the Dull” and posed as a Shizamu Thieves Guild contact in order to deceive a handful of adventurers into fulfilling small, meaningless tasks for him. This was ostensibly because he wanted to gain their trust and confidence, except that one of his marks was literally a paladin of Sarenrae, and rather than tread lightly around him Sessraeseth completely forgot his purpose and took childish enjoyment in goading what I must reiterate was literally a paladin.

Finally he asked them to invade the Tyrant’s Catacombs, but the blithering idiot forgot to tell them to retrieve the tyrant’s artifact, so they merely wandered around aimlessly. Moreover, Sessraeseth wasted so much time ordering his “team” on meaningless tasks that by the time they got to the catacomb, two parties from Freystadt and Saran had also gotten word of the artifact and sought to gain it. In the ensuing chaos, the artifact disappeared, one of his pawns was slain (Tabirra, the daughter of one of your consorts; more on that in a moment,) and the other two predictably abandoned him, since he gave them no reason to come back.

Oh, and by the way, it should go without saying that a Greater Gilded Devil could have simply teleported into the catacombs himself, quashed any living resistance, and taken the artifact, but of course he had to persuade a paladin into that quagmire because he was an arrogant jackass. Though even if he had done so, I’m sure he would have found an inventive way to botch the entire operation.

So with his operation having failed so magnificently, does he cut his losses and return to you for his punishment? Of course not. He silently declares war on the paladin and his companion (two people who, I will remind you, had absolutely nothing to do with anything) and places himself in enormous amounts of infernal debt in order to lease swarms of parasitic lemures, which he used to inhabit every corpse he could find on the premises for use in some (devious, I suppose, in his infantile mind) ambush against the paladin’s party. This whole process, by the way, took months, months in which the paladin and his companions simply grew stronger and better-equipped.

If it was strictly necessary to kill them (it wasn’t,) it would have been considerably cheaper and faster simply to summon a couple of piscodaemons to assassinate them before they returned to Freystadt, but Sessraeseth completely ignored my advice. In fact, he ignored me entirely, even though I was on the clock the entire time. The only order he gave me for months was to try to charm the paladin away and covertly take his life, but this plan was obviously disastrous because succubi cannot charm paladins. I have many dead sisters because they refused to heed this wisdom. All Sessraeseth’s order managed to do was get me pursued by Alena Winther’s goons. I barely escaped intact.

When Sessraeseth was finally ready to put his absurd operation into motion, I pointed out that even his possessed thralls were insufficient to defeat the now-empowered party, prompting him to have me hire out mercenaries to augment our forces. I settled on Namaka’s Infinite Shrikes—independent contractors I’ve had a lot of success with on other jobs. Namaka was incredulous when I told her what her mission was, but we put our heads together and managed to crop out as much of the ridiculousness from Sessraeseth’s plan as he would allow us.

We were based out of Pixie’s Tower in Hustler’s Fen—a frustratingly isolated location—with the Waters of Renewal the tower was built to protect hidden tantalizingly underground. Sessraeseth completely ignored it. He had no idea what they were; to him, the tower was nothing but a fortification. His new plan was to use Freya’s Phial, a magical artifact in the possession of an ensouled sidhe, to planeshift into Elysium where the artifact was waiting, seize it and planeshift out. Again, the blood of any good, red-blooded creature with chaos in their heart would have sufficed for that planeshift, but Sessraeseth wanted the blood of Riwen, the seasoned and deadly warrior in Nyrik’s company. I could not convince him otherwise.

Taking hostages to lure Nyrik and his companions was no challenge—I took advantage of the possessed elf to lower their defenses and convince him to go running into our trap, then had the elf teleport back to Pixie’s Tower. Taking the sidhe and her phial was remarkably simple, as well; though a powerful druid, all it takes is for a winged imp to grab her out of the air and she becomes completely helpless. I also decided the ghoran was a complicating factor, so I commanded the enthralled corpse of Tabirra to assassinate her and return to us with her body.

This left only the Paladin Nyrik, weakened with an encounter with a vampire, Kham the wizard, who serendipitously came to us feebleminded from the same encounter, some giant warrior oaf named Tighenarch, and Riwen. I suggested he simply send in all our firepower at once and overwhelm them, but what he said next nearly threw me into a rage. Not only did he refuse to exploit the situation, he gave Namaka two Potions of Heal and ordered her to go out there and give them to Nyrik and Kham! They happily drank down the potions, restoring them to full capability, and they nearly beat Namaka to death before I ordered an enthralled gnome-magi to come to her rescue.

Since Sessraeseth only enabled me to unleash two Living Spells and a handful of worthless bugbears, Nyrik and his companions emerged nearly unscathed, though there was an amusing moment where Kham had no choice but to cast Cone of Cold on the Chilling Fog wound up empowering it dramatically. It was quickly beaten into oblivion by the strong oaf, though, and after Kham ascertained where in the world he was and what he was doing, they proceeded on to Pixie’s tower.

It was during this period of being utterly flabbergasted at your servant’s incompetence that I snapped and decided to betray him. You should have expected it—every self-respecting demon betrays a devil eventually, it’s one of the most satisfying experiences in this universe. And Sessraeseth made it so, very, very easy, by ignoring me so often, and by leading me directly to the instrument of my emancipation.

As you know, a fiend of my kind, without a material body, can only exist on the material plane with the patronage of a fiendlord. That’d be you. What you may not know is that if one accepts a body, freely given by a mortal who willfully agrees to place their demonseed at its core, the Material Plane accepts them as one of its own, and they can function independently. The Waters of Renewal, which Sessraeseth doesn’t understand and which he blundered directly into my grasp, completely restore any corpse into living perfection, drawing its soul into it from any plane if it still exists. It would be the instrument of my independence, so long as a mortal chose it to be so.

So I appeared before Nyrik’s party (in the form of the Priestess of Abadar from before, not that he recognized it) and made him a bargain. If he promised to give me a mortal body, I would call off the Shrikes, whose contract belonged to me, not to your lapdog. For obvious reasons, they didn’t trust me—I half expected them to kill me. Instead, Nyrik allowed that if I’d bond my existence to an agreement to stop doing evil, he would fulfill my wishes. The decision between continuing to do evil, and remaining a slave to you colossal imbeciles, or giving it up and being a free demon was surprisingly easy to make. I consented to the agreement. (I didn’t want to risk the death of the Shrikes, anyway. I’m actually fond of them, for whatever reason.) They did wish to know who my master was, but of course I was geassed not to tell. Not that it mattered.

Afterwards, I called off the remaining Shrike footsoldiers, and watched as the paladin and his friends proceeded through the fen towards Sessraeseth’s operating base. They were attacked by our mummies and our swamplight lynxes, but they effortlessly slew the mummies and trapped the lynxes in bramble because they couldn’t bear to kill them. Then they proceeded on, rowing to the center of Hustler’s Fen on a boat we rented from a swamp man named Zebediah.

When they reached the lake around Pixie’s Tower, Sessraeseth appeared before them in the guise of Karl the Dull and gleefully taunted them. I think he expected Nyrik and Kham to be horrified they were being antagonized by their one-time taskmaster, but he made the mistake of believing that during that time he did anything to warrant even a single iota of their fear or respect. On the contrary, and to my great amusement, Nyrik seemed confused Karl had ostensibly accomplished something requiring effort, and Kham seemed greatly disappointed and angered that the man who was harassing them would be Karl of all people. Sessraeseth was greatly ruffled about his revelation only making his opponents angrier and more determined to slay him, and hid on the rooftop waiting for the party to be attacked by the rest of the Shrikes.

They were meant to be attacked by Siria and Polaria, but on my directive the two lovers quickly pretended to be mortally wounded and provided them with a few potions of Cure Serious Wounds. Then they briskly made their way up the tower to fight Karl.

What followed was the most pathetic display I’ve ever seen. Nyrik, Riwen and Tighenarch walked right up Sessraeseth, who was standing with his ill-gotten collective of possessed thralls, and the three warriors slashed him to bits before he even got a chance to swing on them. The lemures, their contract visibly having ended, fled the corpses they were inhabiting and returned to Hell. Namaka simply sat on a crennellation, enjoying the sight and drinking heavily. And thus ends the illustrious career of your star lieutenant. What a waste of time and contracts.

Namaka freed all the captives, including the news reporters and that strange bulbous orc, and the elf slowly came to his senses after the lemures exited his body. Then Namaka remained behind, to observe them making good on their promise to me. Ironically, from the four corpses they had available, they ultimately chose Tabirra, your concubine’s daughter, as my vessel!

I handed them my demonseed and they dropped it into the Waters of Renewal, dissolving it into its magics, then they lowered Tabirra’s body into the waters, allowing me to claim it as my own. It also summoned Tabirra herself out of Purgatory, but the Waters effortlessly absorbed her soul into my own, empowering me with her knowledge and memories. I feel… different, now. I suppose now I am both a succubus and a mortal, a unique and perfect creature, just as I deserve. Even the body is perfect. Tabirra herself was quite homely in life, much like her mother (and I hope you tell her as much) but since my inhabitation it has fittingly become a flawless paragon of beauty. Such a wonderful reversal of fortune, and I owe it all to your ineptitude!

Nyrik told me I should travel to Livadeia, and I found his suggestion… Compelling. I should like to have him as my own, but I fear I will have difficulty convincing his like to be a lover. As a footnote, he and his party were teleported back to Freystadt City, and the sprites and pixies that usually inhabit the tower spilled back in as soon as they saw that the sidhe, the object of their disgust, had left. Unfortunately, the Waters of Renewal won’t be back for another forty years or so.

I believe I owe the goddess Sarenrae a debt for accepting my turn from evil and granting me my freedom. Perhaps it’s merely the influence of my new mortal soul, but I find her way of thinking… Agreeable. Here in Livadeia, I’ve offered my services at her temple as a secretary, contractor and accountant, and in return I have been granted her protections for the immediate future. You will never get your hands on me.

Goodbye, Raefaelyintok. You were a good bedmate, but truly abhorrent in every other aspect of your existence. You will never see me again.

P.S. You know that artifact you were trying to get? It doesn’t really do anything.

P. P. S. You remember all those infernal debts Sessraeseth racked up on this boondoggle? If I’m not mistaken, with him dead, all those debts pass over to you. Have fun!

"Stupid, slow elf!"

Rirosorchalwen was tired of studying magic all day.“Booooored!”1, she groaned, closing the book in front of her. She tilted her head and placed a finger to her lips, considering her options.“Hmmmmmm.” Maybe I can just go play for a little bit…, she thought. She was supposed to study for a while longer, so of course she’d have to go out through her room’s window if she didn’t want to be discovered by her parents. She was tall for her age, but still had to stand on a chair to get started out the low window. With one leg over, the rest would have been easy—had the door to her room not suddenly opened. Uh-oh.
Wearing his usual white robe and a knowing smile, her father held the door with one hand, standing to the side as he called to her. “Riwen, sorry to interrupt your studies, but there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
Clearly in a compromising position, this was not the scolding she was expecting. She hopped down from the window and followed her father to the common room. She hoped this wasn’t going to turn into one of those times when not getting into trouble felt worse than an actual scolding. Despite their strictness, Rirosorchalwen had to admit her parents were fair. Still, not getting caught was usually preferred.
Walking behind him, she thought about how big her father seemed. Despite his relatively thin stature, the tall, scholarly-looking man with his black hair pulled into a ponytail, projected an air of confidence and wisdom. He always knew what to do and say, she thought. When she wasn’t worried about getting into trouble, she fantasized about growing up to be like him, one day.

As they arrived in the common room, Rirosorchalwen still wasn’t sure she wasn’t in trouble. However, upon taking notice of the “guest” awaiting them, she immediately forgot about what punishments might await her. The short, green-skinned creature clad in dark leather was humanoid, but unlike anything she had seen—at least with her own eyes. “Gross!”, she inadvertently blurted out, more out of fascination than anything else. From her story books, she thought it must be some kind of goblin, but he was nearly twice as tall (although just as filthy as expected).
Sitting not ten feet away from the creature, nearly finished sewing the blue silk dress she had been working on since earlier in the week, sat her closest friend and the woman she most admired. Without even raising her head, she chided her daughter, “Now, now, Riwen, is that any way to greet a guest?” The white-haired elf was as universally adored within the community as her husband, but there was something frightening about the way she spoke now, despite her calm and pleasant, almost intoxicating, voice. As if reading her daughter’s mind regarding the creature’s identity, she continued, “Mr. Assassin here is a hobgoblin visiting on behalf of the Hammerbeards, our dwarven friends.”Wait, that didn’t sound right—first of all, ‘Mr. Assassin’ could not be a real name, because no one has a name that cool. She also remembered from her story books that goblins don’t get along with dwarves or elves. What was it doing here?

Looking more closely at their guest, Rirosorchalwen noticed that he actually seemed a bit on-edge, like he was in trouble. What a weird guy, she thought. Her father walked over to the fidgeting “Mr. Assassin” and placed a hand on his shoulder. The hobgoblin immediately straightened, as if frozen in place. That’s right. And Mr. Assassin has agreed to help with your training before going back home to his people." Then, turning to look at their guest directly, “Isn’t that right?”

“Er… ah, y-yes, this one… agreed… to help”, his deep voice doing little to mask his anxiety. Rirosorchalwen wondered what he had done. Maybe it had something to do with why he was visiting the Hammerbeards. In her storybooks, goblins of all types only tried to kill dwarves—or worse—and the dwarves often killed them back, in greater numbers. Maybe this one was special. “Umm… what kind of training is he supposed to help with?”, she asked.

“Go on, tell her what she’s to learn.”, said her father, giving their guest a slight nudge. Nearly jumping out of his skin, the hobgoblin struggled to quickly regain some composure. “هذا واحد سيتم تدريس قزم الشباب للتحرك بسرعة وبشكل حاذق.”, he responded, trudging toward the door, as if part of some arrangement Rirosorchalwen had yet to to be informed of. What was that!? She looked to her parents for clarification, but none was given.

In an even voice, sweet as honey, Rirosorchalwen’s mother addressed her and the guest, Now, go play with your new teacher for a while, Riwen. And do take good care of her, Mr. Assassin—I dread to imagine what might befall anyone who allows our dear little daughter to come to any harm." Rirosorchalwen still wasn’t sure what was happening, but decided it best not to question her mother and followed the hobgoblin, now moving more quickly, out the door. As she left, she looked back at her parents, still wondering when someone would explain what was going on. Instead, her mother continued sewing, uninterrupted, and her father flashed her a warm smile, offering a slight wave.

1Translated from Elven-———————————————————————————————————————————————

Each day, in addition to her regular studies, Rirosorchalwen chased her “teacher” through the forest, ducking beneath branches and through bushes, hopping over rocks, roots, and other pitfalls. Teacher? More like tormenter!, she cursed the hobgoblin as he hopped effortlessly around, under, or over each obstacle more quickly than she thought she ever could. Over the past few months, she often wondered if there really was any point to this “training”.

“Hurry, stupid! Catch this one!”, he yelled back to her, playfully hopping backwards over a gnarled root half his height. She had gotten used to the insults by now. Not that she didn’t still want to beat him senseless when she caught him. Show off.

Having all but mastered “conversational Goblin”, it would be another month before Rirosorchalwen could finally keep up with Brak—“Mr. Assassin’s” actual name—and another month before she considered that she might eventually move nimbly enough at his speed to catch him.

2Translated from Goblin-———————————————————————————————————————————————

Finally, after almost a year of chasing, taunting, stubbing her toes on rocks, and bumping her head on branches, caught he was. As she began to suspect in the final weeks, catching her teacher meant the end of his training. In the end, Rirosorchalwen found that not only had she learned a great deal about agile movement, but also terrain navigation and various makeshift traps(Brak was very proud of each one of those), thanks to this rude, smelly creature whom, by now, she almost thought of as a friend. Despite growing closer, Brak seemed greatly pleased to finally be relieved of his duties and was neither seen nor heard from again.
Rirosorchalwen still thought of him sometimes, mostly when running through the trees sparked memories of her childhood. Knowing what she now knew of goblins and their kin, he was probably dead since long ago. She hoped, for his sake, that was not the case. Whatever his fate may have been, she’d never forget his final words to her as she waved him farewell, “It is still stupid elf. At least now it is stupid, fast elf.” He turned away with a grin. A jump, flip, and leap later, he was gone.

Cycle 134, 9th Indiction – 2 Summer 16

Someone told me that keeping a journal might help make me less nervous, so I’m starting one today. Today is also the day I give up adventuring. I’ve decided. No more zombies or things with teeth or crazy people for me.

No sooner had I gotten out of Saren and left those psyocopaths behind, than I suddenly woke up in Freystadt with a huge man I’ve never seen before punching me repeatedly in the face. When I finally regained consciousness, with a huge headache I might add, everyone was trying to tell me I had been possessed. Of all the things to happen. I’m glad Steinogg is okay at least.

Anyway, that was the last straw. If I had a boss, I’d be putting in my resignation. No more adventuring for me. I’m going to go get a nice, cozy desk job in Freystadt City. Something dealing with books or paperwork – they don’t fight back.

Is this good for my first journal entry? It seems a bit short, but it’s not like I’ve read anyone else’s diary. I’ll write more after I look around town tomorrow.

Cycle 134, 9th Indiction – 2 Summer 17

Getting a job was way easier than I thought. I don’t even have to sing, it’s great. They offered me a place up in the big lock they call the Aegis Vault around here, pushing papers. The people in there seem a bit stuck up, but it sure beats getting chased all over the place by Shelyn knows what.

I start work later today, they’re giving me a uniform and everything. I’ll be staying at an inn for a little while, until I can rent a room somewhere or something, but the pay here is good. It looks like I can finally relax a bit. Surely in a city so big and organized as Freystadt, nothing else will happen to me.

Oh no, oh no, oh no. Something just happened, and I’m still confused, but I know it can’t be good. I was at my shiny new desk, looking through the inprocessing paperwork, and some huge armored man just swung down from the ceiling and tackled me. I couldn’t stop it, and before I could react he pinned something shiny to my blouse and jumped out the window.

Nobody here says they saw anything, but now they’re all calling me Lieutenant and acting all respectful. These things on my uniform do look kind of like rank. Did I just get drafted into the military? I thought writing this might help me calm down, but I’m still scared.

They came and gave me my orders a few minutes ago. My orders! They called me “Lieutenant Kaleel”, too! I didn’t sign up for this. I wanted a desk job, just a simple, quiet desk job. Worse, I’m getting deployed to Fort Mϋllrose straightaway. They said they’d even teleport me there tomorrow.

I don’t know much about Freystadt, but isn’t Fort Mϋllrose like, on the front lines? Come to think of it, I’m not even a citizen. How did I end up in this situation? I don’t think there’s anything I can do, though. Everyone around here is very stern. It seems like there haven’t been any major battles for a while, so that’s a relief. I hope my new squad is nice. There’s no way they can be worse that those crazy people I worked with in Saren.

Cycle 134, 9th Indiction – 2 Summer 18

They weren’t lying about teleporting me to the Fort. I got here early this morning – is getting a teleport spell in Freystadt really that easy? Anyway though, my new squadmates are insane. I met them a few minutes ago, and now I’m writing this in my new quarters that they showed me to.

Their – our – leader seems to be that half-elf woman with the glasses and the brown hair all up in a strict bun. I think she was a Major, I don’t really know Freystadt ranks, and she was the only one in uniform. As soon as I teleported in she started berating me about my uniform, saying my rank was crooked and my clothes were wrinkled. Like I wrote before, she was the only other person in uniform. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do, I’m wearing the same uniform as I was yesterday – it’s the only one I’ve got.

They didn’t issue me anything, anyway, just told me where to put my things. My things that are all back in Freystadt City. The only thing I had on me was my lute, because I get shaky if it isn’t nearby.

The others aren’t any better. The dark-haired girl kept telling me to shut up every time I spoke. Somehow she knows my name already. She and the pale guy were glaring daggers at me the whole time, too. It was more than a bit intimidating. There’s another Elf in the squad, though, and he was nice to me, if a bit odd. The others seemed to stay away from him, too. Maybe we can be friends.

Shelyn save me, the Major is banging on the door. I’ll write more later.

It’s been half a day since I last wrote, and I still have no idea what this squad actually does. Major Kaspersen has been giving me orders, but they’re all things like doing the squad’s laundry and making her tea. Everyone else just seems to wander around the fort.

What’s more, I saw a.. a thing watching me while I was doing the laundry, and it’s disturbing to think about how long it might have been following me. It looks like a girl, but it’s got these horrible solid blue eyes and antennae and a tail. Nobody else has said anything, so I think I’m the only one who can see it. Rinfanfannal keeps looking over his shoulder and jumping at shadows though, maybe he can see it too. I’m terrified that if I look behind me right now, it’ll be watching me from the doorway.

Maybe I should mention something to the Major, but she probably wouldn’t take me seriously. I tried talking to Captain Hasek too, but she just keeps telling me to shut up and that nobody likes me. The only other one is the pale guy they all call " Thilo ". I tried introducing myself and he just said something I didn’t understand, but which made my teeth ring for hours. It was incredibly uncomfortable.

Dinner is coming up soon, I’ll play my lute and see if I can get on better terms with any of them. I don’t know how long I’m going to be here, and I don’t want my only friend to be Rinfanfannal.

Dinner was a disaster. I think everyone hates me more now, and I’m lucky to have escaped with my life. I was tuning my lute while everyone else got their food, even though Captain Hasek kept glaring at me every time I plucked the string. I pulled one of them too tight, and hit a real nasty off-note. It’s usually just annoying, but as soon as Rinfanfannal heard that, his eyes crossed, he screamed, and threw over the table. Food was everywhere.

It took three of us to hold him down until the ‘incident’ had passed. He was struggling and yelling one moment, and the next moment he was suddenly sleeping like a baby. Major Kaspersen said it happens sometimes, and ordered me never to tune my lute near Rinfanfannal again. She also ordered me never to tune it near her or Captain Hasek again, because they find it, and me, annoying. That hurt what little self-esteem I have left.

The first day is finally over, though. I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep tonight. Squadmates aside, I think these barracks are haunted. Shelyn protect me, I have no idea what I’ve gotten myself into.

The Golden Herald - Issue #46

I’m sure all of our Freystadtian readers are familiar with Stromberg. It’s a large fishing town on the South coast, well-known for its almost constant rains. Having heard rumors of something unnatural happening, my team and I arrived in Stromberg at the end of last week, just in time to see the end of a most extraordinary incident.

At first it seemed like interviewing the townspeople would be an exercise in futility. No-one seemed to have much memory of the past few weeks, and many people complained of a “red mist” or “crimson fog” that seemed to cloud their minds for that time. However, after a great deal of research and legwork, I was able to piece together what happened.

Everything started about two weeks ago, when the mining company responsible for excavating the sea caves just east of Stromberg uncovered a large natural cavern deep underneath the town. For reasons none of them could adequately explain, the miners deduced that this hollow was filled with great riches, and immediately reported to the mine’s head surveyor, Reto Brodbeck.

Brodbeck himself declined my requests for an interview, but from his workers I was able to glean that Reto wasted no time in gathering up the leaders of the town for a semi-ceremonial opening of this cavern. In this case, this included the head priest, Isiodore Bach, the candy-monger Grommet Sugarbud Jellystar, and Luther Leonhardt, who was present in place of the town’s renowned researcher Atlas Mason. Although the workers claimed that Brodbeck gathered the town’s leaders, the fact that he did not attempt to include the mayor speaks a wealth about the political situation in Stromberg.

Later, at the opening of the cavern, all of the aforementioned were present, as well as Emilia Stumpf, the mayor’s daughter, who had, by her own account, followed them out of boredom. After Brodbeck had driven open the crevice leading to the supposed riches, however, the party was med with a cloud of thick, red mist that, for lack of a better word, ‘infected’ them, transforming all present into something similar to the common Vampire.

Once the town’s leaders were infected, things escalated quickly. Now under the control of a mysterious ‘being’ from beneath Stromberg, the team set about organizing a systematic offering of the townspeople as sacrifices to the ‘Bleeding Skull’. Each night, a red mist would drop over the houses and, unaware of their actions, the victims would file into the chapel at the center of Stromberg, to be offered by Isiodore Bach to the Bleeding Skull for sacrifice.

According to some more harrowing reports I received later, this ‘sacrifice’ involved the victim’s blood being drawn out of their eyes and into a ceremonial skull prepared for the purpose. Unsurprisingly, it was described as a very painful and draining experience, with those who experienced it appearing pale and weak for days afterward.

This system of domination and sacrifice was the status quo for approximately a week, those orchestrating it aware of their actions but unable to resist the Skull’s influence. A few days ago, however, help arrived in the form of Major Hannah Köhler and her self-proclaimed ‘Unicorn Brigade’, the very same elite squad that is currently the talk of Freystadt.

We’ve featured the Unicorn Brigade (an inaccurate name, as the team is officially a Squad under Freystadt military organization, but Major Köhler insisted) many times in this publication, but this was the first time we were able to meet with its members. Upon learning they were still in town, I sought out each individual and requested an interview to further determine exactly what happened in the few days before our arrival.

The first member of Köhler’s squad that agreed to an interview with me was Captain Rirorsorchalwen, a pretty Elven woman who serves as one of the team’s front-line fighters, as well as a magic consultant. When asked about the ‘Bleeding Skull’, the being responsible for infecting the townspeople, she replied that it was a “Scarlet Walker”, an evil-being from another Plane that feeds on its victim’s blood. The Captain also assured us that her squad defeated the monster, and there don’t appear to be any more of them.

Rirorsorchalwen also mentioned, however, that while the majority of those town leaders infected by the Walker made a full recovery afterwards, one of them, namely Luther Leonhardt, was still a ‘vampire’ and still at large. She also mentioned that he had a large amount of îr, the Elven word for sexual promiscuity, and cautioned women of the area, especially young women, to be cautious if approached by him.

Next, I was able to speak with Warrant Officer Nyrik, the very same Nyrik who has become something of a celebrity recently in Freystadt City. In person he was just as described – tall, chiseled, and devilishly handsome – but Nyrik had a much more disturbing tale to tell of events.

Upon their arrival at Stromberg, Major Köhler’s squad first staged an assault on the chapel during one of its sacrificial ceremonies, successfully shattering the skull fetish responsible for draining the townspeople’s blood. During this, however, Nyrik tells a harrowing description of the vampires’ retaliation, and how he was, by his own account, “pinned down” and repeatedly “violated” by Luther himself. Exactly what brought on this brutal experience was unknown, but Nyrik seemed emotionally scarred by the event, and was noticeably pale throughout the interview.

Although we asked Nyrik if he had any comments for his fans, he once again displayed that humble kindness that’s making the women of Fryestadt swoon, claiming: “I’m only a traveling Paladin, I like to help out whenever I can.”

After we met with Nyrik, I tried to get an interview with his partner. Warrant Officer Commsenko, previously thought to be named Tenskyo, was unable to speak with me after being afflicted with a condition Major Köhler could only describe as “poobrain”. His pet toad, Milton, however, was willing to speak on his behalf.

“Well missy, it’s a nasty business, that’s certain.” Milton said in his deep, boisterous bass, little wings flapping as he hovered in front of me, “Folks wakin’ up in the middle of the night and havin’ their blood sucked out by a big ol’ skull, spider demons… Gives me the willies!”

When asked about his master’s condition, Milton referenced the aforementioned Scarlet Walker, and said that it did some “dark magic” that transformed Commsenko’s brain into the equivalent of “tapioca pudding”.

“I expect we’ll get him patched up sooner or later but until then it’s ol’ Milton in the driver’s seat!” he added, wiggling his tiny toad fingers in what he surely considered a ‘magicky’ way.

Finally, Major Hannah Köhler herself agreed to answer a few of my questions, and I met with the somewhat infamous Sidhe for the first time. The tiny Major confirmed what I had been told before regarding the events of the past few days, and included that all of the individuals that her Unicorn Brigade rescued from the Walker’s lair were unharmed and recovering. She did have a specific message for Luther Leonhardt, the one missing victim, wishing to tell him: “You need to come back, you slacker, you have a job to do.”

When I asked about her view on her subordinates’ performance during this incident, Major Köhler lauded the members of her squad, stating: “All members of the Unicorn Brigade conducted their duties with the integrity and dedication the Freystadt Army demands.”

We attempted to secure interviews with the last two members, Captain Gilbert Barkwin and Lieutenant Elowyn Eberhardt, but the former was nowhere to be found, and the Lieutenant declined to comment.

While Köhler and her ‘Unicorn Brigade’ undeniably saved the town, however, there is a darker side to this tale that lies with the fate of Stromberg’s beloved priest Isiodore Bach. Isiodore is the only one of the original victims to remain deceased, and several townspeople admit to having seen the disturbing circumstances surrounding his death. That is, this squad of ‘heroes’ surrounding the elderly Bach and mercilessly beating him to death as he tried to escape.

When questioned about this, each member of the squad denied the event ever occurred, with many of them professing not to remember any such thing, but Major Köhler instead claiming that the witnesses were in an altered state of mind and could not be trusted. While the townspeople were indeed under an outside influence, it is the discrepancies between accounts which deeply disturbs us at the Golden Herald.

Although the Major insists that they are taking measures to fully restore Isiodore Bach and return him to work in Stromberg, is it really that simple? What really happened in that chapel? Will the Scarlet Walker’s influence have any effect on the normal methods of resurrection? Can Bach really be “restored”? We’ll report again next issue with these answers and more.

Star Investigative Journalist,
Kira Appleton

Teppac-Karn gazed solemnly at the stonework before him. Rivulets of magma flowed slowly through canals embedded in the rock, bathing the reception chamber in warm red light. He could feel the eyes of the guards on him, and his hands twisted nervously, clasped behind his back in a military posture.

“Teppac-Karn! You may enter the presence of King Agamemnon.”

The booming voice cut through Teppac’s reverie. He strode forward with all the confidence he could muster, past the guards with their burning eyes, and into the expansive throne room. Agamemnon sat slently, the massive, ever-burning fireball behind his throne casting dark shadows across the king’s features.

Garnon-Hast, of course, was already there.

His eyes glimmering with contempt, the other Giant barked a laugh. “So the traitor finally shows his face! Ha!”

Before Teppac-Karn could respond, Agamemnon waved one ponderous arm, and the court fell into silence. The many guards lined against the platform’s edges snapped to attention, and the Fire Nymphs ceased their frolicking in the pools of lava that surrounded the throne.

“Teppac-Karn,” his thunderous voice echoed through the chasm, “Garnon-Hast.”

The two Fire Giants dropped to one knee with a sudden clang of metal.

“The time has come for us to reclaim this land.”

A murmur ran through the Nymphs at that, cut off by a sharp wave of Agamemnon’s gauntlet.

“A path has opened to the Open Spaces. Teppac-Karn, on the basis of your past failings, you shall be the one to scout the world outside, and determine whether the Nemesis still rules.”

Teppac-Karn could not see his companion’s face, but he knew that Garnon-Hast was grinning.

“Garnon-Hast, you shall accompany him.”

There was a sharp retort of metal on stone as Garnon’s hand slammed to the ground in surprise.

“My Lord, you cannot mean to-”

Agamemnon’s fiery beard flared with sudden fury.

“My word is final, Garnon-Hast. Do not think that your petty bickering has gone unnoticed. Consider this a chance to avoid my fury.”

Garnon’s figure sagged in resignation.

“Yes, my lord.”

“Your mission is to attack a Human settlement. Kill as many as you are able. See if you draw the Nemesis’ ire. If you do not return, then we shall know that our time has not yet come.” the corners of the Flame King’s mouth twitched into a small smile, “You leave immediately.”

“Yes, my lord!” the two Fire Giants barked in unison.

The sun shone down upon Teppac-Karn, a single dot of fire in an otherwise disturbingly open sky. Their passage was accompanied by a constant clanking, as the Ettins they had captured rattled and beat at their chains. Brutal, stupid beasts. Power, but no control. Was this what Giantkind had come to in the Open Spaces?

“So, how far d’you think before we run into some Humans?” Teppac asked, glancing over at his silent companion. They had been following this road for days now, and Garnon-Hast’s mood had not improved.

“You will not speak to me, traitor,” the other Giant spat back, “It’s because of you I’m in this mess.”

Teppac-Karn raised his hands in placation, “Whoa, whoa. I didn’t mean no harm. So you don’t want to talk. Got it. Got it.”

They walked in silence for several minutes before Teppac spoke again.

“What do you think about this whole ‘sky’ thi-”

“Teppac-Karn!” the other shouted, “You test my patience. Another word from you, and, regulations be damned, I will cut out your tongue.”

Teppac opened his mouth again, thought better of it, and shut it. The two trudged onward in silence, followed by the shambling Ettins.

As they crested the next hill, the lowlands stretching below them, Teppac-Karn spied a group of smaller figures traveling along the road in the opposite direction and rapidly approaching. He raised a gauntleted fist and pointed.

“I see them, Teppac-Karn,” Garnon-Hast said through gritted teeth, “You talk to them, find out where a nearby settlement is. This isn’t worth my time.”

Teppac shrugged and started onward again, and soon the two groups were standing across from each other, each eying the others warily. They seemed to be all humans, as far as Teppac-Karn could tell. One of them looked like a tree, but trees don’t walk around or carry weapons, so that must be a Human too.

After a brief discussion in a language neither of the Giants understood, one of them stepped forward. A shorter Human, wearing blue cloth and with skin baked to a deep ground. Or maybe made of dirt. If Humans could be trees, why not dirt?

Garnon-Hast nudged him, and Teppac-Karn snapped out of his reverie. He waved his arms expansively, in as dramatic a gesture as he could muster, and boomed:

“Bow, Humans, before the heralds of King Agamemnon the Hewer!”

This failed to have the desired effect. The dark-skinned Human merely watched him curiously, then spoke to his companion, a muscular man with radiant skin and golden hair. Teppac-Karn held the pose awkwardly, waiting for them to finish.

The dark-skinned man turned back to him, addressing Teppac in accented Giant.

“Who is King Agamemnon?”

“King of the Fire Giants! Trapped within his molten palace for centuries, he now sends us, his advance guard, to reclaim the lands that were once ours!” Teppac-Karn thought he could hear Garnon-Hast sigh wearily next to him, as he finished with another expansive gesture.

“Ahurm! Can you all hear me all right?”

Teppac looked around with a start. The voice had seemingly sounded from within his own skull. It was a rough, jovial voice, and reminded him somehow of his father. He prepared a response, but was interrupted again by the person talking in his head.

“Well, seems ta me like only Kham here speaks Giant, so I’ll do some translating. Just act like I wasn’t here, eh?”

“Reclaim your lands? These lands belong to Freystadt and its people.” This was from Kham’s muscular companion, who spoke with a low, melodic voice. Teppac-Karn winced as the more boisterous voice translated the words inside his head.

“People? Hah! You consider Humans people?” Garnon-Hast spat the words, the first he had spoken since encountering the others.

“Hahah! Humans! People! As if!” Teppac-Karn chuckled and nudged his fellow in the ribs, but Garnon was obviously not amused.

There was some more discussion from the other group, which the invisible voice chose not to translate, then Kham turned back to them.

“I think we’re going to defeat you now,” he said, casually.

Garnon smiled humorlessly and hefted his axe, as Teppac-Karn broke the chains binding the Ettins. He couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable at the murder in his companion’s eyes. Just as Teppac readied his own axe, however, Kham lifted a hand.

“One more question,” he said, calmly.

Teppac hesitated. “Okay,” he replied, “Last one.”

“Weren’t all the true Giants wiped out by Nemesis?”

Teppac nodded, “All those on the surface, indeed. We have spent ages below ground, building our strength to defeat Nemesis!”

“Nemesis has been dead for thousands of years.”

Teppac paused. Could it be true? It was hard to keep the relief from his face. He turned to Garnon-Hast, just as the other roared a battle challenge and charged.

No sooner had Garnon initiated combat, than Kham waved his hands and muttered an incantation. Suddenly, a piercing rain of frozen hail erupted around them. The finger-sized shards of jagged ice stung and steamed as they ripped at his flesh. A rushing, slashing sound echoed from his left, and Teppac-Karn was vaguely aware of Garnon falling to the ground with a mighty thud, unmoving.

Teppac flailed with his axe, only to have it torn from his grasp as a smaller, dark-haired Human maneuvered a thin sword through his grasp. He turned, hail tearing at his face and shoulders, to face Kham’s companion, the golden-haired man stepping forward, raising his greatsword for a mighty swing.

“Parlay!” Teppac-Karn shouted, throwing his hands up, “Parlay!”

The blonde man faltered, overbalancing himself in an attempt to stop his swing. With a wave of his hand, the hail vanished, and Kham stepped through.

Written by thealgaehydra

A high-pitched buzzing filled Kohler’s ears. For what could have been a couple of minutes or a couple of years a bright stream of every color imaginable and unimaginable both had streaked past her like a rainbow tunnel with too many layers. Despite all the brightness the blackness she knew lay beyond seemed oppressively wide and endless; an agoraphobic’s nightmare.

All manner of sounds had drifted in and out of Kohler’s ears for the past seconds or centuries so at first the high-pitched buzzing went unnoticed. Instead she thought. She’d been doing a lot of that lately, and despite the indeterminate length of ‘lately,’ she’d gotten a lot of thinking in. Not many of the thoughts were terribly profound – she wondered how Alena was doing and she thought about how the Blightmoor wasn’t as bad as people say. She weighed the pros and cons of getting Obsidian shaved for the summer. A few of the thoughts, though, seemed heavy like lead in her sidhe-sized mind, and when she thought them the tunnel of colorful lights seemed to stop passing by so quickly and the blackness of the beyond peeked through. She thought about Binyamin. She thought about Lieutenant Hannah Kohler the elf. She wondered if she would ever get that sleepover.

That damn, incessant buzzing still hadn’t gone away. Now a sound like hissing paper filled her ears in place of the buzzing, and then far away came a gruff voice. This having been the first voice she’d heard in the past week or millenia, Kohler perked up. “Hello?” she called into the colorful blackness. Her voice seemed smaller than usual here. “Is someone there?”

“Miss Kohler!”

The voice was much louder that time, distinct but still distorted by electrified lute strings strung over the back of a wet cat. A pair of sharp, staccato beeps preceded absolute, perfect silence, and a gruff, jovial voice came to her as clear as her own thoughts.

“Miss Kohler! Can you hear me? It’s Milton!”

“Milton?” she called back, still shouting aloud. “What the heck are you doing here? Where are you? I can’t see you.”

“I’m still with the others. Where the heck are you?”

“I dunno. Boy, am I glad to hear a friendly voice. It’s been crazy out here, just flying through colors and hearing all this space. What happened? Is everyone okay? Am I okay?”

There was a short pause on the other end of the connection, then Milton’s voice returned, slightly distorted. “You turned into a gem. Kham said somethin’ about a bad draw on the Harrow deck.”

“Oh.” Kohler thought for a moment. “Is it at least a pretty gem?”

“Loveliest red I ever saw.”

Kohler wondered if she was satisfied with that, but only long enough to forget and ask another question. “Where the heck am I?”

“Lost in time and space, I reckon,” Milton replied, “Took me a darn sight to track you down. They don’t make trans-dimensional telepathic transceivers like they used to; I’ve been tellin’ ol’ Kham to invest in one of those new-fangled crystal balls but I guess Cap’n Riwen says it isn’t in the budget.”

“You lost me,” Kohler said flatly.

“No, we’ve still got you. You’re in Kham’s pocket.”

“Whoa,” Kohler breathed. Her connection with Milton started to fade, covered up by soft, warm tones of fuzzy blankets and fat, friendly dogs that slobber too much. A whole new expanse opened up before her, the tunnel of blackness and color coalescing into something that, if she squinted, started to take the shape of the entire universe. Or at least, an entire universe. It all seemed so big despite how small it appeared beneath her, surrounded by and taking shape within all the colors of creation. Then the expanse of that universe yawned open and swallowed her up, and for one terrible second she was hurtling through what passed for the edge of reality. She became aware of the need for oxygen the same way a blind man becomes aware of an oncoming train, and just as suddenly she was staring some of the weirdest-looking people she’d ever seen in her life directly in the face.

Too startled to say anything, a badger-faced boy and his pretty, fox-tailed friend stared at Kohler, agape. Undeterred, Kohler flitted up to them, arms wide, grinning, and started to speak. She’d just noticed how nice it felt to have the warm sun shining down on her lilac skin when it went away. The badger-faced boy and his friend were gone. The universe was gone. The colors was gone. Even the blackness was gone. Nothing isn’t black, Kohler thought. I always imagined it as black.

She did her best to stand by despite her feet not touching anything. She wasn’t sure she even had feet or that the concept of feet meant much in her current predicament. She certainly wasn’t going to be doing any standing, regardless. “I was somewhere far away,” she said. Milton grunted back, distracted. “There was a pretty girl with a big fluffy fox tail like Obsidian’s, but a different color. She looked cool. I wonder what her name was? I bet we’d have been good friends. They were on an island, with a mountain. It smelled different than any place I’ve ever been.”

My Lord Tyrant,

I am well aware that you observed the entirety of the events leading up to the rescue staged by those ‘heroes’ of Freystadt. However, as you have instructed me, I hereby create a written record of the battles with them. Does this serve a greater purpose, or is it merely for your amusement?

The beginning of our plan was executed flawlessly. With the artifacts of your design, we were easily able to divert the younger members of the squad – those ones that interest you – to the designated ambush point, while the two more powerful were sent far to the South. Despite the rather… ‘intensive’ training we granted them, however, the two lumberjacks used to assault them failed to kill a single member of their team.

Elowyn, the newest addition to their little band, proved to be more of a threat than anticipated. She held the one called Beck in single combat, while the rest of them killed Jack, the stronger of the two. As expected, the other lumberjack goons, whom the twins insisted would be able to hold their own in combat, were entirely useless when the fighting began. One of them spent the entire conflict entangled in a Wizard’s spell, before being knocked off the platform by a rolling log. Pitiful.

Regardless, this outcome was within our expectations, and served well to gauge their current capabilities. Beck, the more skilled of the two twins, was recovered, and I am sure we can make good use of his brother’s body. Such a brute loses little by becoming a mindless thrall.

After defeating the lumberjack twins, the ‘heroes’ proceeded west into Blightmoor. As you commanded, we ensured that they were unmolested by any denizens thereof until their arrival at Tyrant’s Redoubt. Though it did have a certain theatrical flare, I question the wisdom of simply allowing them inside the castle. Not that I mean to doubt you, lord Tyrant. You could smite them at any time, yet we spend so much time on elaborate preparations.

But I digress. Their ‘friend’, whom Andronikos had captured before, was positioned within, complete with the ‘enhancements’ that were granted to him. His squad of combat-trained Wight soldiers should have been a match for their team, but it seems yet again I have underestimated them. The Elf who bears your sword, Rirosorchalwen, holds great power. Crushing a skilled Wight Defender in a single blow is no small accomplishment.

As you are aware, emotions do not come easily to me after my ascension. However, even I felt a spark of amusement at watching their ally El-Mofty roughly choke Elowyn and repeatedly pummel her. Their ‘commander’ exacerbated the problem by placing an Aqueous Orb on the two. I question the judgment of Freystadt’s leadership – placing a Sidhe in charge of anything seems a foolish proposition. The team’s Wizard, however, is another who may prove dangerous given time. His Black Tentacles spell removed even El-Mofty from his grapple and incapacitated the two Wight Archers. The interrogators tell me the Elf was called ‘clever wrestler’ in his youth. How foolish.

Their defeat of the Wights, while impressive, was not unexpected. Andronikos had requested a personal battle with them, should they succeed. I believe that even after his own ascension, he clings to that petty concept of ‘honor’. Regardless, granting him a battle would in no way hinder our plans, though I took the liberty of adding two of your Shades to the conflict, in order to confound their spellcasters.

As the Knight requested, their battle was held on an island created specifically for the purpose, suspended magically over the endless storm that circles Tyrant’s Redoubt. This battle should have been a simple victory for Andronikos, but none of us anticipated the sheer power that their Paladin displayed. One from Freystadt does not simply come across a sword of that caliber, and I regret not detecting it before the battle. I sense the influence of that one in the East, only he would have access to such a weapon.

I digress again. The clarity of death does little to keep my thoughts from wandering. Elowyn displayed surprising skill again by disarming Andronikos’ prized greatsword. The Knight retrieved it in an overly-dramatic fashion, I believe. At the same time, it seems their archer, the ‘tree’ was able to dispatch the Shades with some help from the other melee fighters. At some point in the confusion, their commander simply disintegrated. This was none of my doing. Was she really such a threat that you felt it necessary to step in?

After Andronikos returned, he initiated a one-on-one battle with the other team’s champion, the Human named Nyrik. It was a close battle but, astonishingly, the Knight was defeated. The joy he must have felt to die in combat once again. It sickens me.

As you directed, we shifted the castle after the fight, leaving them to crash to the ground on a now rapidly descending rock. I doubt that this finished them, however. They prove to be quite tenacious. El-Mofty’s body was left behind. After all these years, you still insist on rewarding your enemies. Do you hope that, perhaps, they will become powerful enough to challenge you? Such a thing is impossible, I need not remind you. But, who am I to question the will of the Tyrant?

This loathsome task is done. Let it thusly be recorded.

By the Tyrant’s will,
Hannibal Woden

You are hereby tasked with a mission of the utmost import. You are to infiltrate Tyrant’s Redoubt at its suspected location in Blightmoor, extract Major Benyamin El-Mofty, and return with as few casualties as possible. The use of excessive force is permitted by order of the Lord General himself.

The Blightmoor is full of peril, and Tyrant’s Redoubt doubly so. This will be the most difficult mission you have yet attempted. But fear not! The hopes and prayers of the citizens of Freystadt go with you. Rescue our fallen soldier, and return triumphant!

Entering Grunewald five heroes did walk, following a road, all cobbled from rock. A wondrous map, from an old man’s hand, guided their steps in this mystical land. But before them appeared an unexpected sight, a tree and a fork, which way was right? Then out from the forest, a figure did appear. A soldier bedraggled, blood in a smear.

Though tempers did flare, their row did not last. The lord of the forest, Albion, came past.

“Thou have been released, young one, from that torturous hell. Live your life with these comrades, and live it well.”

Upon which the hero named Kham did stand, he kneeled and presented the toad in his hand. Milton’s skin was red, his pores leaking smoke. His voice was hoarse, no more than a croak.

“Your toad’s condition we quickly may fix. But first thou must pass my trials six.”

With a rustle of leaves and a breath of air, the forest disappeared, and only darkness was there. The hero called Gilbert, her branches spread wide, watched as into the clearing, four Treants did stride.

“You sideth with humans!” they bellowed at her, “While they cut down our comrades, both thistle and fir!”

“These are my allies!” Gilbert didst cry, “Though they are human, attack them and die!”

The Treant strode forward, and lifted an arm, but through sword and spell only he came to harm. Out from the darkness, Albion did appear. An apple he gave Gilbert, and spake for all to hear:

“Thou have passed my first trial, and I am impressed. Keep ahold of that apple, and thou shall be blessed.”

The next trial was Nyrik’s and to his surprise, his daughter and a commoner did show before his eyes.

Albion gestured, his eyes hard and gray, “Choose one to die, or both I shall slay.”

For a time and a half Nyrik did consider, his pure blue eyes flicking hither and thither. Eventually he nodded in his decision, stood before the two and took up position.

“By my own honor, neither shall die. If you must kill them then first fight I.”

Albion grinned and gave Nyrik some bark, turned a sword in his hands, iron gleaming and stark.

The next to be tried was Riwen, and with Albion’s word, she appeared on a battlefield, blood all on her sword. Cowering before her were children three, terror on their faces for all to see.

“Kill them quickly,” a dark figure said, “They deserve not to live, they should be dead!”

Riwen strode forward with a shake of her head. “Why must they die?” she cautiously pled.

“They are inferior,” the boy in black jeered, “Slay them now, and shed not a tear.”

Riwen stood fast, and lightning did sear. “They will not die,” her voice lacking all fear.

But Albion was sated, “Thou has done well. Come back to me now, from that wartorn hell.”

Upon Riwen’s shoulder her reward did appear. The shape of a tree, etched proud and clear.

The newcomer Elowyn, whose trial was next, saw soldiers before her, and rightfully was vexed. Blood and gristle filled her vision, her squad splayed out, their bodies stained crimson.

“You were their leader,” a voice said in her ear, “Why should they die whilst you remain here?”

The horror was not over, and her father was there, the word “Betrayer” in blood over his sightless glare.

“Can you condone all the things that you’ve done? You have caused so much pain, and helped no-one.”

Behind her loomed the spectre of Death, with rusty scythe and rattling breath. Through her soul pure fear did fly, she must have courage, or else she shall die. But even in the darkness she did not despair, her strength of heart banished Death from his lair.

For Elowyn’s trial was a beautiful cape, its form cast around her in a natural shape.

" Now Major Köhler! " Albion cried, “Your memories we shall see, from before you had died.”

With a grinding noise and a horrible scrape, from the ground five pillars did quake. Upon them were scrawled symbols five. Sun, moon and spark. Bell and beehive. ’Twas Gilbert who finally solved the riddle. “Five elements!” she said, as quick as a fiddle.

Five elements indeed, and with each stone that fell, a vision came to Kohler, her past it did tell. Her times with Benyamin, both happy and grim, then he over her grave, form sodden and thin. A deck was Kholer’s reward, though she was at a loss.

“Use it wisely,” said Albion, “Else I shall be cross.”

Kham’s trial was last, a test from his college. His family looked on, begrudging his knowledge. Though the questions were hard and without any quip, Kham’s wits pulled through, he was smart as a whip. As he turned in his test, through the darkness did shine, the glowing of the sun, over a clearing fine.

A branch Albion gave Kham, it took shape in his hands, becoming a staff of much power, no item of chance. And lo behind Albion, a tree did loom, it’s fruit hanging low, and its flowers in bloom. One of these fruits the lord gave to poor Milton, his skin cooled to normal, no longer its crimson. From the toad’s back two wings did sprout, his tail ’came long, but not so his snout. With a joyous squeal, flame shot forth, as Milton took off, fast as a horse. Kham was in joy, his friend had been rescued. Albion sent them back, with the treasures they accrued.

Chapter 2 – Unmasking the Thief

So there we were, Köhler‘s squad and I, the body of Starling laid out on the table in front of us. Everyone else in the inn, even the owners, had left in a hurry. Can’t say I blame them. I had just took a long drag on my cigarette and opened my mouth to speak, when another man burst through the door. Blonde-haired, muscular, and devilishly handsome – I could tell he was going to be trouble. Warrant Officer Nyrik, he said he was; another member of Köhler’s squad. I still had my doubts, but it never hurts to have more hands, and the lad looked like he’d be good in a scrap.

We talked up the topic of what to do with the body for hours, it seemed. Finally decided that the only thing to do was to pay up and have some local religious type raise him from the dead. One of the dames mentioned that I could use my Golden Fist connections to come up with the money. That made me chuckle. I guess I can at that.

I’d take care of the messy business of getting him back up and conscious the next day. In the meantime, one of my contacts was going on about the thief being seen leaving Kaiten’s Timepiece each night. It was probably a false herring, but it bore investigating. I’d send Köhler with her men, broads, and vegetation to investigate while I did the thing with Starling.

I got the report from the tiny Major later the next day. She was blasted excitable, and went on every tangent that presented itself, but I managed to piece together what happened. You don’t get as far as I have in this business without learning a thing or two about putting information together.

They’d made it to the clock tower early that afternoon, and the monkey unlocked the chains over the door. I tried not to think too hard about that bit. She said the first floor was filled with philosophers, and I can only assume she meant statues. Not surprising for a tower dedicated to Kaiten. They were mechanical, probably guards, but the monkey disabled the activating device. Damn useful monkey, that.

The second floor had a statue something she called a “Trickeratops”. Can’t say I’ve ever seen anything like that, but it must have been pretty monstrous, judging from how the bird described it. Seems like the Elven broad, Rirosorchalwen, mostly took care of that, with a bit of help from the tree. What caught my interest is when she mentioned the monkey finding a white creature, emaciated and with holes for eyes. That matched up with what Starling, or Stanislav as I ought to call him, had told me.

The journal they found confirmed what I had suspected, and what De Ven had told me. Those things were following him, and they were likely working for the other " Starling ". We finally had enough information to act on, and, according to his letter, the thief’s next target was the Winther manor. A perfect place to catch a murderer.

Chapter 3 – Killing a Monster

The clocks struck midnight, and I took a long drag on my cigarette. Down in the foyer below, the butler was dusting by candlelight, watched carefully by the tree. Judging by the last few attacks, it wouldn’t be long before Starling made his appearance.

Sure enough, minutes later a shadow spread across the room. Kham, in the corner, visibly shivered, and I could tell that it had gotten to Köhler too. Even the Elven broad, usually a stalwart sort, looked a bit shaken. With the sudden crash of broken glass, the room went pitch black.

I slowly drew a knife, trying to adjust to the darkness, but I couldn’t even see the lit end of my cigarette. As soon as it had come, though, the shadows vanished, and Warrant Officer Nyrik stood in a halo of light, brandishing a glowing stone that rotated slowly around his hand. There was no broken glass, and no Starling. I breathed out.

As I slid the knife back into my bandolier, the other skylight suddenly burst, and Starling fell to the ground in a billow of black cloth, claws raking for the butler. I cursed under my breath, and drew the knife again, but Nyrik was already in action. He drew that enormous sword that he keeps on his back, and charged the thief, cutting a long gash across Starling’s chest. The masked thing didn’t like that. It let out a horrible scream, and white fire blazed from the wound. I knew that Nyrik was trouble, and for the first time I years, I felt I was out of my depth.

Before anyone else could act, Starling raised his cloak, and I knew what was coming. Stanislav had used the same trick to teleport away from Köhler’s squad before, and I cursed and fumbled with my knives in a hurry. Just as it seemed the murderer would escape, Nyrik was there again, swinging his sword on the downswing, and with a flash of light, Starling hit the ground and lay still.

The aftermath was a messy business. It always is. Things got political when it turned out the fake Starling was a fey, and we had to wait a few days while the delegate from Grunewald took her sweet time getting to the city.

I had De Ven sent to the Catacombs. He wasn’t a bad lad, and didn’t deserve it, but I don’t make the laws, and that’s what passes for justice in this city. When that Suspiria broad finally showed up, I breathed a sigh of relief that was a long time coming. Starling’s corpse was handed over to her, and she took Köhler’s squad with as well, something about a sick toad. I didn’t mind, I wouldn’t need them again for a while.

With one last glance at the departing crowd, I put on my duster, lit a cigarette, and hit the streets. There were more crimes that needed solving, and the city relied on me to take care of them. I wouldn’t let it down.

The Deep Imbroglio
A Novella by Ludolf Forest

Chapter 1 – Clipping the Starling’s Wings

The dame came to me late on a summer night. I was smoking, legs up on my desk, the ice in a glass of brandy settling slowly beside me when she walked into the room. She was short, and not much of a looker, but that’s the way it is with these government types. She said that I had to catch a phantom thief having his way with the city’s nobility; that it was an order from the Lord General himself.

I slowly exhaled a puff of purple smoke. I don’t like being given orders, but it doesn’t pay to upset men like Sigismund. I said I’d take the case. This didn’t seem to satisfy the dame, and she started going on like they do, but my mind was already on the mystery at hand. Phantom thieves are always trouble, and if years of prowling this city has taught me anything, I wouldn’t be able to handle this one alone.

A piece of paper drew my eye on the desk, under the glass of brandy. A letter from my own bird. She’d been writing a lot lately, excited about going out west and this new elite squad she was working with. I don’t like the idea of leaving Freystadt, but an elite squad sounded like just what I needed for this case.

The dame was still droning on. I fished out a piece of paper from my desk and began to write. Being a member of this town’s so-called elite had its benefits, and the message would reach Karin by nightfall. Until then, I’d case this phantom thief’s recent hits, and see what I could learn.

I swung my legs off the table and grabbed my overcoat. The dame seemed angry now, still ranting about something, but all that mattered now was the case. My office door slammed shut with a crack behind me, muffling the last words of her endless lecture.

Pemberton’s report was on time, as it always is. You don’t get very far as a detective in this town without getting a few contacts among the suits, and Aalekzander was the best of the best. I unfolded the message as his man scurried away; they’re always nervous around my type.

Reading the report told me what I had already suspected. This elite squad my bird kept talking about lived up to their reputation. On their way back they’d killed an adult hydra, survived an attack by will o’ wisps, saw through a trio of annis hags, and assassinated a dragon. An impressive record, but I decided to wait until I saw them function in the city before making any judgments.

It was early in the morning, outside the gate of the Paternoster estate, when I met my “elite squad” for the first time. Years of working the shadier parts of this city had taught me not to give anything away, but it wasn’t easy keeping the shock off my face. I asked for detectives and they send me a bunch of broads and a bug. The only man among them was the one they call Tsenkyo, and he worried me. From what I’d read in Pemberton’s reports, the man was a magnet for trouble. I didn’t ask whether the monkey was with them – I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.

I took a long drag on my cigarette. If this is what they sent me, I’d just have to work with it. We walked into the estate while I gave them the rundown. A lot of it, they already knew, and that spoke well for their abilities, but it started to wear on me when they wouldn’t stop asking about the Paternosters’ blasted golden elephant.

I was showing them the very elephant when the owner of the estate made his first appearance. Eustachius Paternoster was a weasel of a man, the very image of a stuck-up noble. Can’t say I liked it, but years of experience told me to just give this type what they wanted so they didn’t stick their aristocratic noses too far into the investigation.

Paternoster demanded that we post a pair of guards in his sleeping chamber. Starling hadn’t murdered anyone yet, but a twinge in my gut told me that he was right to be worried. I decided to stake out his quarters myself, along with Captain Barkwin. She may have been a tree, but there was no denying she seemed the most reliable of the lot. The rest of Major Kohler’s squad would take care of guarding the elephant.

I couldn’t do anything but watch as Starling punched through Paternoster’s chest and pulled out, hand dripping with blood and holding the noble’s heart. After an eternity, I loosed a throwing knife from my coat and threw it at the thief. With a jolt and a spray of blood, the weapon flew back to me. That was reassuring. Starling could bleed.

Reaching out to me, with a thousand screaming voices, the thing shot something out that froze to my very soul. You don’t police this city for as long as I have without dealing with worse than this, though, and I shrugged off whatever it did to me. The cigarette left my mouth, and I drew another knife, but Starling was already gone.

I checked Paternoster first. Sure enough, he was dead. Even a noble can’t survive with a hole in his chest that big. There was some commotion going on outside, and the Major said the monkey had picked up the thief’s trail. Trying not to think too hard about that, I followed the rest of the squad.

There, lying on a flight of stone steps in a back alley, was the body of Starling. His black cape was still, he wasn’t breathing. Starling was dead, and things just got complicated.

To whom it may concern,

I am writing today to formally complain regarding the actions of the officer squad under command of Major Hannah Köhler. At noon on the previous day, Lieutenant Hasek and I were socializing within my private quarters, whenCaptain Rirosorchalwen knocked on the door and brashly demanded entry. Lieutenant Hasek, being off-duty, had been indulging in a bottle of wine, and convinced me to allow the Captain into my room, despite my better judgment.

Accompanying Captain Rirosorchalwen was Major Köhler herself, Lieutenant Fannalfannalrin (who promptly departed), and what I can only presume to be the Captain’s pet monkey. As I was distracted, attempting to deal with the interruption, said monkey began to, for want of a more dignified description, monkey around in my room. The primate began ripping through the important paperwork upon my desk, and destroying the results of my arduous magical calculations performed the previous night.

In retaliation, I afflicted the monkey with a harmless spell, after which it vanished. Major Köhler, rather than disciplining Captain Rirosorchalwen for such uncouth behavior, simply stood by. The Captain herself seemed to find the situation hilarious, adding insult to the damage the monkey had caused.

Before I had a chance to voice my displeasure to the Major, the primate appeared again, this time tampering with the bowl of fruit I had brought to my quarters as a snack. Once again, I scared him away with a harmless spell, barely maintaining my dignity before the laughing officers who had invaded my quarters.

This incidents repeated themselves several times, until I was finally able to forcefully evict the monkey from the premises. Finally relaxing, I took a bite of a piece of fruit from the bowl, only to lose consciousness a moment later. Several hours afterward, I awoke, alone in my quarters, with my prized spellbook and coinpurse missing. I can only assume that Major Köhler and Captain Rirosorchalwen used the monkey as a distraction to drug me and steal my possessions.

Aside from the obvious criminal intent, these actions reflect poorly on the Freystadt military as a whole, and are unacceptable, particularly for officers of their rank. I trust that correct disciplinary action will be taken against the parties in question.

My Lord,

I am pleased to inform you that the battle went exactly as planned. The forces of Blightmoor broke against our mighty walls, and were sent scattering back into the forests. It was an overwhelming victory for Freystadt.

Intelligence had indicated prior to the battle that the enemy intended to break through our defenses with a vanguard of giants, but they were not the only elite forces to have been dispatched from the Blightmoor. We have confirmed at least three other elite units. One giant, much larger than the others, confirmed by our resident priests to be a resurrected Zombie, one heavily armed and armored warrior, believed to be their commander, and one large black dragon, likely a fully-grown adult, were also present on the battlefield.

We commenced the battle with our two elite squads, hand picked by your Golden Fist, meeting Blightmoor’s Hill Giant forces in the center of the battlefield. Though each squad suffered minor injuries, thanks to their valiant efforts, only a single giant actually reached the walls, and only managed to collapse a small section of our defenses before the troops there responded, slew the giant, and established a defensive perimeter to plug the breach.

According to the official confirmed count, Major El-Mofty’s squad brought down a total of six fully-armed Hill Giants in the first battle, while Captain Köhler’s team killed only five. The Captain’s squad is, however, also responsible for killing the Zombie Giant, which attacked them in the midst of the other combat. Despite Major El-Mofty’s insistence that it “still only counts as one”, this is quite a feat.

At the appearance of the heavily armored knight and the dragon, Dame Armbruster and myself detached from our respective squads and intercepted the wyrm. Though powerful, our combined prowess was enough to keep it at bay and away from the fort. Shortly thereafter, however, the enemy commander joined the battle, and engaged Dame Armburster in a one-on-one battle. Due to my extensive defensive training, I was able to lock down the dragon, but was dismayed to see Lady Karin struggling with her own enemy.

To our great relief, by this time both Captain Köhler and Major El-Mofty had finished eliminating their respective targets, and rushed to our aid. Having been slightly faster in defeating their enemies, the Captain’s squad arrived first and showed remarkable courage and skill in surrounding and harrying the dragon. Lieutenant Barkwin was especially enthusiastic in this fight. In a display of impressive magical prowess, Captain Köhler herself dealt the finishing blow, striking the dragon’s head through with a bolt of lightning and crashing it, headless, to the ground.

After this, both squads rushed to the assistance of Dame Armbruster, who had been bloodied in her fight with the enemy commander. After being surrounded on all sides, however, the armored man produced a black sphere and apparently used its magic to teleport away. Lieutenant Rirosorchalwen landed a direct hit as he activated it, but I regret to inform you that the enemy successfully escaped.

As a summary, Major El-Mofty’s squad performed just as expected, but Captain Kohler and her men went above and beyond their duties, and even saved my life. Each of them shall be receiving a promotion on the morrow, and I give them full recommendation for any further duties the upcoming conflict with Blightmoor may bring.

For the Glory of Freystadt,
Commander Boris Siegward

Well it’s been ‘bout a month since that Alena woman sent me away over in Freystadt. I ’aven’t been doing much with this here journal since then, so I’ll try to catch up a bit on events.

First off, I was pretty pissed off at bein’ dismissed all casual like that, ‘specially since that blasted Gnome had me thinking that I was on my way to getting a promotion. I stormed about the city for a few days, but, without any other orders and nothin’ else to do there, wasn’t anything for me but to head back to the ol’ Horstmar garrison. Didn’t run into nearly as much trouble on the way back, neither. I tell you, that old squad is a magnet for trouble.

Well wasn’t even a day after I got back that some “urgent missive” came for me, straight from Fort Mϋllrose itself. Seems like something big was shapin’ up out in the West and down in Blightmoor, and they wanted a Captain of my experience to show up and beat some sense into the newer recruits. ‘Bout time I got some recognition, and from Boris Siegward himself, no less. Let’s see the fairy beat… no, wait, her orders were from ‘im weren’t they? Damnit all.

Anyway, I trekked on down to Fort Mϋllrose, took me a week or so nappin’ in the back of a hay wagon heading that way, and reported straight to the Commander. To my delight, and I don’t often use that word, he promoted me right there on the spot. Major El-Mofty. Got a nice ring to it, don’t it?

Now I ain’t one for complaining, but why do they always saddle me with the misfit squads? Boris kept calling them elites, but the two women always look shifty, the halfling‘s got some sort of complex, and one of them’s a giant bug for cryin’ out loud! It was bad enough when they sent me a tree, and now a bloody bug? Heck, this red-haired fellow, Rifnanhannel or somethin’, he’s the most normal of the lot, and he’ll run away soon as you shake a stick at ’im. Going to have to do something about that.

I will admit they’ve got some potential though. Neither the young lady with the bandages nor the big bug fellow seem to use any weapons, but heaven knows they don’t need them. She’s got hands quick as a snake, and ain’t afraid to use them in ways that make even me cringe, and he’s got four bloody arms. That blasted ant-thing can shoot out punches faster than I can follow. Let me tell you, I’ve seen some great brawls in my time, and nothin’ measures up to that.

Rifnanhannel’s got a good arm on ‘im, and doesn’t have any trouble hefting that big sword of his. Lad could really do some damage if he could buck up and fight for a bit. Commander Siegward said somethin’ about “pushing him ’till he snaps” – not sure what he means by that, but we’ll start with some verbal abuse next time we’re in training and see where we go after that.

That just leaves that halfling snot – he’s good with a bow, though I dunno how he manages to keep his balance with an ‘ead that big – and the wizard of the team. Now she’s good at magic, don’t get me wrong, but that personality of hers damn well rubs me the wrong way. She’s always questionin’ my orders and lordin’ over me and lookin’ down her nose – it’s bloody infuriating. Seems like the rest of the crew hates her as much as I do though, only one she gets along with is the other dame, with the dark hair. Well, they can keep each other, as long as they stay out of my hair and pull their weight when battle comes.

I was pretty bloody surprised when Boris told me his strategy for the next battle, though can’t say I disagree with it. Seems like that other squad of misfits I headed is on their way ‘ere, and they and I are going to have some sort of competition. According to the intelligence the Commander’s managed to collect, them Blightmoor bastards are relyin’ on getting some giants up to the walls of the fort, to make an entrance for the other mooks. Not a bad strategy, way better than you’d be expectin’ from the brutes that live out there.

Turns out Siegward’s counter to this is us. My new squad – which I’ve taken to callin’ Mofty’s Marauders, good name eh? – and the other team, led by “Captain” Köhler. We’re gonna head out and take down those giants before they can get to the walls. The Commander’s gone and taken it a step further, he’s gonna hand out promotions to the team that kills the most giants! Hell, this is my chance to finally get the rank I deserve. Lieutenant Colonel El-Mofty, hah!

Now my old squad knows how to handle themselves, but they’ve got nothing on the Marauders. Murderers, swindlers, and all around dangerous folk, these new guys are. I should ’ave this competition in the bag. A nice shiny new rank ought to more than make up for how troublesome these guys are to train.

Köhler’s squad showed up yesterday, and the Commander says we’ve got about two days to go ‘fore the Blightmoor bastards march on the fort. I could ’ardly keep my bearing when that fairy heard Siegward introduce me as “Major El-Mofty”. Hah! It’ll be some day when a bloody sidhe gets one-up on ol’ Benyamin.

‘Course, it’s not like it wasn’t good to see them all again. I jus’ got back from visiting with the Captain. Told her to watch out for ‘erself and all that. Bah, I never was any good with this soppy stuff. ’Course, now I just got back and heard that Marina was off causin’ trouble with the other squad. Something about stealin’ some Wizard’s spellbook. Now that they mention it, they did have two new humans hanging around with them when they got here. Well, two human fellows shouldn’t be nearly ‘nough to tip the scales in their favor. I’ve still got this one in the bag.

Now I’ve got to fill out this “incident report”. That Marina gal will be getting an earful from me later, no mistake. Bloody paperwork…

Alana,

See, I told ya I’d get back to you about yer piglets. There was no call fer that nasty little note you sent me last time. Anyway, we finally made it all the way to Fort Mullrose, safe and sound, though, lemme tell you yeah, it was one hell of a trip. Bet you wish you could have been here, eh? Eh?

Right after that first time I wrote ya, we ran into a bunch of beary owls out in the woods, attacking some poor adventurer sod on the ground. Now Nyrik, that piglet doesn’t like to stand for that sort of thing, so he was off like a bolt, tryin’ to defend the guy. Riwen and the others all joined in, even the fox was harryin’ the things’ paws, and they killed a couple of ’em before the rest turned tail and ran.

After that first fight, I decided yer piglets could take care of themselves, and started stayin’ out of the scraps they got in. Better for them to get some good battle experience so they can become big, strong Freystadtian hogs, eh? So from back where I was, I got a prime view of the big ol’ owlbear as it barreled right through the woods straight at the group. This must’ve been the mama, and let me tell you, it was the biggest beast I’ve ever seen. The piglets continue to impress though, Nyrik got himself all trapped in the thing’s paws, but Kham, that wizardy fellow, he cast a spell that made it slow down, and the rest of them had beaten it to death before it’d even got a chance to right its bearings. Ha!

’Twasn’t even one day before we ran across another beastie. This one was a creepy floaty mask all following behind us in the shadows and such. Right unsettling it was. I noticed it straight away of course, and didn’t take the others long. Gotta tell you though, that Kham fellow is right oblivious. He kept rubbin’ his eyes and muttering something about bees. Dunno what that was all about.

Anyway, seems like yer piglets knew what that thing was, and knew that it was powerless in the sunlight. The bastard was waitin’ for night to fall, so it could slink all out of the shadows and kill us at its leishleasuless kill us whenever it wanted. Now Nyrik, he lured the thing right into a windmill’s shadow, and hit the mask with that big shiny thing he calls a sword. Now I don’t know much about religion or all that shmuck, but I swear when he cut the mask, the metal started putting out all holy light and shining all over the place, and damn if that mask didn’t scream. Long story short, yer piglets killed it, and they found a nifty bag and a magic ring for their trouble. Not long after, we were back on our way.

So remember that ring I mentioned before? ‘Course ya do, ya just read it. Turns out that there ring was cursed! Nyrik put the thing on, and we didn’t notice ‘till the next day, but his hair started growing up a storm. Better, he can’t take it off! Now he has to cut his hair each and every night, so it doesn’t get too lucshulucsluxurr too nice-lookin’. What a hoot!

Few days into our trip, and yer piglets and I found ourselves right outside Horstmar, that big tradin’ town. I never spend much time there, but seems like that’s where the rest of them are all from. Who’da thought? So we come up on this lumbermill area, and there’s all these stumps and logs all strewn about, and that Gilbert gal gets a haunted look on her face, and starts walking all around like she’s in a trance. Makes sense, I suppose, her bein’ a tree and all. Them stumps must have seemed like a graveyard to her.

So there she is wanderin’, and she comes up on this stump that ain’t quite like the others. The other piglets and I aren’t far behind, having been following her wonderin’ what’s come over old Barkwin, yeah? Sittin’ on that stump, waving at her like it’s the most normal thing in the world, is this rabbit wearing a waistcoat. Strangest thing I’ve ever seen, I tell ya. Now the rest of us are all confused and wondering what a rabbit is doing wearing such fancy rags, but Gilbert isn’t taken in. She shot an arrow straight through the rabbit, quick as lightning, and the thing bounced backwards but stopped – it was held to the trunk by a huge bunch of these stringy white veiny things! Right nasty it was.

The stump didn’t like this, apparently, and its front split open to make a big ol’ mouth, spewing out tentacles left and right. Riwen knew what it was, and started shouting out warnings to the rest of the piglets. She’ll make a damn fine commander someday, that girl will. Kham, that monk fellow, he looked a bit scared but did that magic thing of his anyway, and just like the mama bear before, the tentacle stump slowed way down – let everybody else just dart through its tentacles, safe as houses. Everybody but Obsidian, of course. That stump had a taste for meat, it did, and it grabbed the fox in one big tentacle and started dragging it closer. The others managed to kill it before he got pulled all the way to the mouth, but I don’t much fancy thinkin’ about what might have happened had they not.

We didn’t spend much time in Horstmar, but kept on going right into the forests leading down West. Not a mile out of town, and we spotted a real ugly bat thing just sitting off the side of the road, watching us. This time Nyrik knew what it was – he called it a Berbabblebang or somethin’, and decided that, as a Paladin and all, he had to kill it. Now I wasn’t going to argue, I don’t want anythin’ looking like that hanging out anywhere near a Freystadt town. Everybody approached it with weapons drawn, but the thing just kept staring at us. Its eyes were shining like lanterns, but looked like nobody was home. It went all blurry too, and it took Nyrik a coupla tries to get a good hit in, but when he did he just right cleaved it in half. End of problem.

Now the next few days were pretty empty. Surprising, yeah? All that stuff happened to us right out of Freystadt, then we get into the real wilds and it’s quiet as Ludolf. Seems like just the other night we had some giant gorillas sniffing around the camp, but Kham, Nyrik and I just slept right through it. Didn’t even hear about it until the next day. Turns out Riwen and Gilbert managed to calm them down, thanks to some timely help by the little Captain. That piglet ain’t as burly or forceful as the others, but lemme tell you Alana, she’s got a good ‘ead on her shoulders. Good job making that one the Captain, that’s for sure.

Nothin’ else much exciting happened till the very last day, right before we got to Mullrose. Some bastard had put a giant tree right in the middle of the path. Fortunately that little Kohler came up with a solution, and dug a tunnel down under the log and up out the other side. It was a bit of a tight fit, but I managed to crawl through, and the others didn’t have nearly as much trouble. So we get to the other side, and I’m just in time to see the fairy shoot a great jet of water at this lumberjack-lookin’ fellow standing on a ledge above us and holding an axe.

Things got a bit hectic after that, and next thing I know, I’m runnin’ down the hill bein’ chased by that big mother of a rolling log, with Obsidian and Nyrik carryin’ the unconscious lumberjack. Two other burly ‘jacks were running backwards on the log, arms crossed, keepin’ their balance, right ridiculous it looked, and Riwen was up there with them! Quick as a cat, she is. Kham did some fancy teleporting to get behind the rollin’ thing, and the Captain can fly so, of course, she didn’t have anythin’ to worry about. The rest of us though, we had a grand old time. Runnin’ through streams, jumping down cliffs, smashing through brambles, all the while being chased by what had to be a ton of huge, rolling tree. It was fantastic fun, let me tell you!

So as we’re running along, tryin’ our best to keep pace with the log, I hear some sounds of fighting from behind. There’s a brief whooshin’ noise, and the first lumberjack, Beck, they called him later, came tumbling down off the side of the log and landed right in front of it. There was a horrible thumpin’ noise as the log rolled right over him. Damn painful, it had to be.

The other ‘jack only lasted a little longer, then he fell off too. Jack, Jack the ’jack, he managed to get up and get a runnin’ start, stayin’ just in front of the log, but ran straight into the brambles Obsidian had dodged earlier. He got caught just like a fly in a web, then the log ran over him too. Thump thump! Ha! It was great.

Seemed like both the lumberjack twins had been dealt with, so I decided it was time to put a stop ta all it. I was still doin’ fine, of course, but Nyrik was startin’ to look tired, and had that unconscious ‘jack still draped over his arm. I got a bit more of a runnin’ start, then turned around and raced up to the log. One swing from that axe of mine and bam! The log split in two and rolled off in opposite directions. All the piglets stopped running around and stopped, givin’ me this incredulous look. Guess it wasn’t quite as fun for them, but what’re ya gonna do, yeah?

It was just a hop, skip and a jump ta the fort after that, and I handed the piglets off to that nice young Private they assigned to them at the gate. Some angry-lookin’ guards came up and took the ‘jacks off our hands, so I reckon’ that’s the last we’ll see of them, and I headed off to my quarters here for some well needed sleep. Helluva journey it was, and yer piglets were damn entertaining. Ya ever need me to cover them again, just say the word.

Your friend colleague,
Karin Armbruster

Alana,

Look, I know you and me don’t get along so well, but just thought it’d be common courtesy ta let you know that I picked up yer piglets safe and sound. They’re a bit scrawny, ‘specially that magical twerp, but they’ve got spunk! That fairy in ‘ticular. She’s as big as me pinky, but got spirit that’d put most grown men in this country to shame.

Now we just finished killing off some of those big one-eye bastards that’d set up camp just a day outside Freystadt, and the piglets handled themselves well. I wanted ta make sure they didn’t get hurt or anything, of course, so I helped out for this fight but I’ll let ‘em handle things for themselves if we run into any other trouble. They’ve gotta get some real, gritty battle experience if they ever want ta grow up to be big, mean Freystadtian boars after all! Ha!

I’ll write ya again when we get to Boris’ keep out in the West. It’s gonna be a long trip, and things sounded pretty bad from the reports we’ve been gettin’ here in the city, so I hope we make it in time. Back to back, out in the mud and the rain facin’ the stuff outta Blightmoor, that’s when we’ll see what yer piglets are really made of! Look forward to it!

-Karin

Written by Sighing

Heya Bingyamen, how are you doing! I’m doing great! Things are going awesome for me and I wish you could see it! I tried to find you after we completed our mission, but I guess you went home already? So, anyway, I decided to write you a letter, but it turns out I write way too small for big people, so I’m dictating this to a maid at this inn we’re staying at. So weird I found a maid who can write, huh? Oh, she’s glaring at me.

So we went to this dungeon to get some kind of thing, I can’t remember what kind of thing exactly but it was really old. We met a bunch of really greasy type people and also we fought a man of worms, but that’s besides the point, we got two new guys to join my brigade!

That’s what I’m calling it now, by the way. My unit is called the Unicorn Brigade! Because the deadliest part of the unicorn is its smallest and most beautiful part, the horn, and that’s me, right in front! Cool, right? I mean, I haven’t told the team yet but they’ll fall in line once I explain the metaphor like that.

So, we got these two guys, and one’s a paladin, and the other, um, he’s, like, uh, a magic guy. You know, with, like, all the blasty spells? But he also summons monsters, but not SCARY monsters. Well anyway their names are Nyrich and Commsenko, and they’re totally righteous! Nyrich even saved me a bunch of times in the dungeon when Mushowshi kept trying to kill me. Oh, did I tell you I saw him? He’s way evil and he joined the bad guys. Totally gotta kill him before he kills me.

So yeah, I was like “Hey Nyrich, I’m ALL about the paladins, how about you quit your job and join Freystadt?” I forgot to tell you, this guy was working for some guy named Cal the Dope, that’s why they were in the dungeon. And anyway Nyrich is like, “Oh, I shall join your cause, but I will go nowhere without my love.” And I was like, “Well, you can bring him too, I guess.” So they joined the Unicorn Brigade! But they’re the lowest ranking members. Even behind Gillburt!

So we’re heading back to Freystadt and we come to this bridge, and there’s like, um, big fat blobby guys, they all look alike to me, Orcs or Ogres or Ogrillons or whatever, point is, they asked us for money to cross the bridge. I forgot to tell you, there was a bridge. And I’m like, “Haha, we don’t need your dumb bridge,” but Ruin was all like “Um captain, we do actually,” and I’m like, shit. So we attacked them, but one fell on Obsidian and hurt him really bad, and I spent the whole fight healing him, it was awful. But we killed them, because psh, what else was gonna happen?

So then Nyrich sees this holy symbol of Ayamiddy and he’s all like “Whoa, that’s my symbol, we gotta check it out,” so I’m like, “well, okay.” So we keep going and there’s this massive cathedral in the middle of nowhere and I’m instantly like, “psh, nuh-uh,” and I shoot sparkles at it and we figure out it’s an illusion. Then Nyrich gets angry and he’s like “RAAAUGH who is messing with my godddd” and he rushes in and there’s this pretty lady in there! But she’s a monster. She was pretty though, she had the cutest fangs, but it turned out she was a lamia? That’s like a lion, but instead of a head it has a lady. Anyway, naturally I was like “Wow, you’re incredible, you should join my brigade,” but she was like “grr, no way, because I’m a bitch.” So I shot off some sparkles and set off a huge arrow trap, and she got angry and attacked, and of course we totally killed her, but I felt sad about it. Anyway we took her stuff.

So we go home to see Alena, and I’m feeling scared because we never managed to bring back that thing she wanted. But she was like “nah it’s no big deal,” because she’s cool like that. But then she told us she’s been digging up her basement because… I don’t remember why she’s digging up her basement, it’s a weird thing to do. But there was a ghost down there, and it stole Ruin’s voice, and then we killed it. But there was also this undead girl made of stone. And we killed that too. But it hurt Ruin really bad. Then we healed her though, so whatever. Anyway, we took their stuff.

Alena was totally happy with the awesome job we did, though frankly I think she should have just not dug up her basement? At any rate she was all like, “you’re the finest military unit in Freystadt, go take a couple days of leave.” And that made my brigade happy, but I wanted to spend more time with Alena, not with my lieutenants, so I asked her if she wanted to have a sleepover. And she goes, “Okay, if you can get Gillburt to come, sure.” But she wasn’t talking about our tree-lady Gillburt, but this other guy who lives in Freystadt. So I was like, yeah! I’m totally gonna get him to come!

So then my brigade decided to go shopping, and there’s this fat guy there selling really ugly shirts, and it turned out they were cursed shirts! He put a shirt on Commsenko and it made everybody really angry at him, so he tried to take it off, but it was too tight! Luckily I used my superior brainpower to come up with a solution, and I cast Barkskin on him, and it made the shirt explode. Then the merchant tried to run away, but I chased him down, and I was gonna poke him a little with some sparks but Ruin advised me not to, and she’s my best strategist so I listened to her.

Then we kept exploring town, and we met this really pretty girl, I guess she was a cleric of Addabar, and she was waaaaay into Nyrich. I mean, she saw him and she goes “Fufufufu you and I should hit the town fufufufu,” and Nyrich is like, “um, no, I’m with my brigade, also you scare me.” I tried to tell the lady that she could spend the night with me if Nyrich was too shy to go with her, but everybody talked over me. Anyway I guess it was okay, because Commsenko said “No run away it’s a terrible demon,” and, yeah, she was, it turned out. But I think it was mostly that Commsenko was jealous.

So after we got that out of the way, we found Gillburt’s house, and I knocked on the door, but it was actually his roommate that answered it, Bainhamer. He let us all in though and he was really nice, though he didn’t seem to like Alena for some reason. (Actually, a lot of people don’t, and that still doesn’t make any sense to me, because Alena is so cool? Are people not seeing how pretty and poised and smart and good-smelling she is?) Anyway, this is the best part, though. He told me he went to skool with Gillburt, and at first I was like “Haha what the heck is skool,” but then he said “That’s when you’re a kid and old ladies are mean to you.” And then I HAD A MEMORY!! I totally DID go to school once! I remember those scary old ladies! I don’t remember where it was, though, so not much help.

But then Gillburt finally came home, and he was really nice, and gave us all scones. He said I was even cuter than he expected~! And he also said he was sure Alena liked me, because Alena likes cute things, and I mean, that’s me! So I was really happy! I told him he should come with me to Alena’s house and have a sleepover, but he was uncertain about it (I don’t know how you don’t immediately agree to spend time with two pretty girls and a bunch of chocolate and marshmallows but I guess he has obligations or something). I really thought he’d come around, though!

Anyway, Gillburt works at the vault, so we decided to check out the vault. I think Ruin was trying to find something out? I think she was looking up an elf she knew or something. But there were so many records, I got excited, and I tried to find my records. But the librarian said the records were only available to high-ranking people, so I go, “Well, I’m a captain,” and they said that wasn’t good enough, even though they’re MY records! They won’t let me read my own stuff! So I was pretty unhappy, but I knew Alena would be able to get me in if I asked her.

We went back to Alena and I asked her for help opening the vault, but she said she’d only help me if I agreed to help her. She wanted us to go to the Groonwall and mediate a dispute her friend was having with these other fey. I’m super fey, I mean, I’m really really fey, everybody knows that, but actually I really don’t know anything about the Groonwall. I’m from the Blightmoor, and that’s where all the swamp fey live, but the Groonwall is more of a forest. It’s a lot greener and there’s no tar pits. But I was really excited to meet these fey, because I never really get a chance to meet any since I left the swamp.

Well, as soon as we headed down there, we met these giant shambling mounds, and one of them was eating a poor doggy, so of course we attacked, but it got really messy when I tried to electrocute it and it got really fast. Ruin was all like “I TOLD you not to use sparks!” but I was like “I didn’t hear you!” Anyway, it ate the poor doggy, and almost ate Obsidian before we killed them both dead. The mounds I mean.

Then we ran into these three hags, and of course I got excited, because I was made by hags, and so was Alena! These were forest hags, of course, not swamp hags, so not that interesting, which was good, because we had to kill them. They weren’t really that strong, but they made some members of our brigade look like hags too, so it was impossible to figure out who to fight until Ruin finally killed one and all their tricks went away. Well, except for Commsenko, who got turned into Obsidian’s brother! He was an adorable magic fox and it wasn’t an illusion. Even after we killed the hags and took their stuff, he was stuck that way! I was so happy for him. I think Obsidian was happy too.

Anyway we got to the edge of the Groonwall and there was this big tower, so we knocked on the door and this really really old guy answered the door. I guess he was Suspeerya’s butler? Suspeerya was Alena’s friend we were looking for, by the way. So he takes us to her, and she turns out to be this really beautiful blonde woman, just great! She was a little shorter than Ruin, so still pretty big, too. Anyway I just thought she was human. She was totally sexing that satyr, though, it was really obvious. (Oh, there was a satyr there too.) Anyway she told us she wanted to build an observatory to grow poisons, and the field fey wouldn’t let her. But I was like, psh, easy breezy, diplomacy is my middle name.

So I float out to the field, and all of a sudden all these animals turn into beautiful field nymphs called Bladdoowids. It’s weird, ever since you went home, we’ve been running into more and more beautiful women. There was also a tiefling woman you would have liked, but she got eaten, long story but totally not my fault.

So the bladdoowids say to come meet their queen, and I was excited because I thought the queen might be a sidhe like me. But then they said “Nah, but Suspeerya totally is.” And I’m like WHAT? How is that possible? I mean, you should have seen her, she’s way bigger than a sidhe and she’s not purple and doesn’t have wings or horns or anything? But they didn’t explain which really annoyed me. Anyway, the queen’s like, “We hate Suspeerya, and she wants to grow poisons to kill humans, so we hate that too. But we find your two humans really handsome, so we’ll let her have what she wants if they give us babies.”

Anyway so they went off to sleep with the bladdoowids, and I tried to spy on them because they really didn’t give me anything else to do. But afterwards everybody was satisfied so the Queen was like “Okay thanks, we’ll let Suspeerya have her stupid garden.” All in all, it was super easy.

So I go back to Suspeerya, and she goes, “oh, great, you guys are the best.” And we’re about to go home, but of course I want to know what’s this about her being a sidhe. But she said, “oh, the Queen lied to you.” I thought that was a really weird thing to lie about, but she wouldn’t tell me anything more, so I went home feeling a bit cranky.

Then we went back to Alena’s house, and I asked her about Suspeerya being a sidhe, and she was like “Oh, she’s a special kind of sidhe,” and of course I got jealous, because the way she said it, it sounds like Suspeerya gets to have sleepovers with Alena even though I don’t. But she said “No, you’re special too, but Suspeerya is different.” Yeah, I mean, I don’t know, I just want to know what her whole deal is.

But then she says to the Brigade, sorry, we can’t have fun yet, I need you to go to Fort Mullrose. And of course I’ve totally been to Fort Mullrose, that’s where the commander gave me the orders to come to you, so I was like, sure, that sounds good! I guess she wants us to do something with the Blightmoor, which is interesting, because that’s kind of my hometown, you know? Anyway, tomorrow we’re supposed to meet this lady, Karen something, and we’re all headed off together to save the day! I don’t know from what, maybe you can meet us there and we’ll find it together?

Alena,

The unit you sent to “mediate” that dispute between myself and the Blodeuwedd Queen actually manged it, somehow. I have to say I’m impressed. They didn’t say how they did it, but I did notice that the two men looked pretty happy when they reported back. A bit later, the Queen sent me a message through Frederick and said it was fine to build the conservatory. It went a damn sight better than any of the other attempts I made. Humans are so gullible though, and there’s so many of them, you can’t really blame me for not being discouraged when the first ones showed up dismembered.

Enough of that though, don’t want to make you too excited. I took care of those “agents” your butler sent to keep an eye on them – you know I hate having them anywhere near my territory. With them gone, you’ll probably want to know what happened to them on the way there.

From what I’ve heard, your little officers are magnets for trouble. Just in the few days it took to get here they ran into two of those Shambling Mounds that like to hunt in the swamps between Grunewald and the Mirrorlands. My faeries said they killed the things without much trouble, but didn’t manage to save the dog one of them was munching on. Not that I care about the dog, but they lose a few points for not meeting the challenge.

The very next day they encountered a coven of Hags just outside of Grunewald and, let me tell you, this was hilarious. As I’m sure you know, being a Hag-spawn, those crones are more powerful when they’re together, and the first thing they did was make the tree, the Elf, and the fox look like crones themselves. One of them transformed herself into the splitting likeness of that young Elven officer, and another transformed the Wizard into a copy of the fox. One of them died then, though, and the fun had to stop. Alone, a Hag is just a disgustingly strong old woman, after all, and the screams as your squad killed them were deafeningly loud.

Everyone changed back after the first one died, except for the Wizard. He was still a fox when he showed up at my tower. It was all I could do not to laugh at him. By the time they got back from the Blodeuwedds he was human again, regrettably. He was so much cuter as a little black fox. It was probably the Queen’s doing, but as you know I can’t spy in there. They’ve got a knack for spotting my faeries no matter what I do.

Anyway, the whole thing turned out in my favor, so you’ve got my thanks again. Strictly speaking this isn’t covered by the treaty, so I owe you one, just don’t expect too much.

Your friend,
Suspiria

Spymaster Pemberton,

We followed the subjects as you commanded. Their first destination was the city market. Due to the thick crowds present there, it was not difficult to conceal our presences and observe from afar. After a period of unimportant shopping for minor magic items, the Paladin and the Monk from Captain Köhler’s unit approached a fat merchant selling novelty shirts on the side of the road.

At the man’s insistence, the Paladin tried on a novelty shirt that the merchant claimed would suit him perfectly. The article in question was a blue, short-sleeved shirt with a pattern of frolicking kittens on the forward field. Upon viewing Acting Lieutenant Nyrik wearing the shirt, several people in the crowd, as well as Lieutenant Rirosorchalwen collapsed into uncontrolled laughter. At this point, Specialist Heinrich had to be forcefully restrained lest he compromise the squad’s position.

With more zeal than is normal, the merchant then forced a red shirt upon Acting Lieutenant Tsenkyo. This article was bright red, with flaming letters spelling out the words “Get Some!” in bold type across the front. As with the previous shirt, this one incited unnatural emotions in the crowd, causing many large, threatening men to approach Tsenkyo with open hostility. Following a brief debacle, in which the Acting Lieutenant was chased across the square by an angry mob, Captain Köhler forcefully removed the shirt by enhancing him with a spell, causing his skin to become hard and knotted, ripping apart the fabric. Acting Lieutenant Nyrik simply pulled the kitten shirt off without apparent effort.

Our squad noted that the merchant sneaked away with his wares during the confusion, but the observed unit was determined to follow him. A similar exchange occurred when they met again, but Lieutenant Barkwin and the other members left satisfied after purchasing a shirt in Captain Köhler’s size, this one featuring three wolves howling at a moon in the upper field.

The observed subjects are noted as acting like tourists, as indelicately put by Specialist Heinrich, but no better description currently presents itself. After visiting each of the notable landmarks, the group arrived at the square in front of the Aegis Vault. Here, Acting Lieutenant Nyrik encountered Specimen #68, the rogue Succubus currently loose within the city. Though she attempted to charm him, a mix of his severe naivete and Acting Lieutenant Tsenkyo’s gentle urging extracted him unharmed from the situation. We lacked the proper firepower to attempt the demon’s capture, but her appearance has been noted and logged.

Near the end of the day, Captain Köhler decided that she needed to meet Gilbert Hardwin for unknown reasons. She is noted as speaking excitedly about a “sleepover”, but details remain unclear. After a short period of information-gathering, the group discovered the location of Hardwin’s residence in the suburbs and promptly departed for it.

Upon reaching Hardwin’s residence, the door was answered by his known roommate, Banehammer, and the observed subjects were invited inside. As per your instructions, we refrained from initiating contact, and waited outside for the unit to emerge. Before much time had passed, Lieutenant Barkwin was seen leaving the house, and was followed to the Aegis Vault and back, apparently without purpose. During this interim, Gilbert Hardwin arrived at the residence.

Shortly after Lieutenant Barkwin returned, the group left the residence and proceeded to their appointed quarters. As is normal, Banehammer discerned our location and invited the squad inside for tea and scones. We were, of course, careful not to disclose any information to him, though Specialist Heinrich needed to be reminded of this procedure several times. After speaking with him, he saw us out and provided us with an extra scone, which he insisted be sent to you, sir. You will find the pastry enclosed with this message.

((Archivist’s Note: The “Monk” earlier in this message refers to a Wizard, rather than an ascetic holy man as is common. Note to replace reference to Captain Köhler’s magic with something more easily accepted by the Commander.))

The unit I sent to Karzak’s laboratory should return today, and I must say that I am unexpectedly eager to have them back. Gilbert continues to avoid visiting the manor any way he can, and the incessant banging of that thing in the basement is beginning to get to me. It’s even begun to frighten young Timmy. Though I would much prefer for Gilbert to deal with it, Captain Köhler’s unit should be well up to the challenge. Any group that can survive the remnant’s of Karzak’s research, after all, should have no trouble with a simple monster in the basement.

According to Willikin’s reports the route back from the Everspire Range is as dangerous as ever. The squad had to deal with a horde of goblins, a band of Ogre highwaymen, and even a scheming Lamia in order to make it safely home. They proved quite up to the challenge, of course, though the spectacle of that swollen Ogre brute falling upon Lieutenant Obsidian must have been most entertaining to see. Sometimes I envy Willikin’s freedoms and experience, the opportunity to silently look upon others’ misfortune. Not often, but sometimes.

As expected, Köhler’s unit had no trouble dealing with that nuisance the workers uncovered. In the process the buffoons somehow managed to kill Timmy, however. I managed to control my outrage, it shan’t be difficult to create another Attic Whisperer, after all, but the depth of their ignorance is quite astounding. I would love to blame that sickeningly do-gooding Paladin, but apparently the incident was instigated by the little one stealing Rirosorchalwen’s voice. Oh my, it stole her voice! How terrifying! Spare me from these fools…

The actual beast down there, a Petrified Maiden, Willikins tells me, was dispatched without much effort, almost an afterthought. It did manage to severely injure Lieutenant Rirosorchalwen, however. Her spine itself looked injured, even disfigured after that encounter. Perhaps such a pleasing sight helped me to keep my temper in the face of such ignorance.

I’ve given the squad a few days leave, to keep them out of the way for the time being. There is still the matter of Suspiria‘s little conflict to deal with. Frustrating as it is, part of my duty is to uphold the treaty. Assuming I cannot shirk the responsibility somehow, I shall have to send Köhler’s team to mediate. They should be good at that, at least, naive as they are.

Precious Gilbert,

Willikins has just returned with his latest report, and I have some delightful news for you. That team of misfits you’re so interested in has survived Karzak’s laboratory. I certainly didn’t expect it, though from what I hear their experience there was most amusing. Allow me to elaborate.

Do you recall the Zuvembie incident I wrote you about last time? They arrived at the Southern entrance to the laboratory not a day after almost losing their lives to that creature. A note in the report here mentions how they spent quite a while examining the doorway, but I hardly see how that is relevant. Regardless, they soon entered the lab, the fairy leading the way with her lighted tail. Is this right? Does she have such a thing? How… unique.

Following the flickering of a lit torch further down the halls, my new pets encountered, most surprisingly, another group of adventurers, this one hailing from Shizamu to the North. Both teams doused their lights at the same time, whispering and arguing in the darkness. Willikins describes it as “quite the fracas”, and indeed, it sounds like a most hilarious mess.

After a short time, the two groups managed to rekindle their lights and have something approaching a civil conversation, one that was quickly cut short by the appearance of, as it says here, “large humanoid badgers”. Karzak certainly had some strange interests.

The outside threat quickly fostered friendship between the two groups, and they joined together to fight these “oddly resilient” badger people. The Shizamu adventuring team was made up of a “knight in shining armor” and a " mysterious monk who created spectacular effects using only his hands". Willikins never was able to properly grasp the idea of magic, poor fool. It seems there was a third member, some sort of demonic woman with a knife, but she was quickly killed by a mysterious wolf among the badgers. The report says something else on the matter, but for now I think I shall keep that to myself.

Our small unit, along with Shizamu’s, were having quite a bit of trouble fighting off the badger men, but were saved by the appearance of yet another adventuring party, this one from the distant Saran. The odds required for all three of our representing groups to be there at the same time are quite astronomical, but that is a question for another time. That is to say, I already have Willikins investigating.

More to the point, this new team was made up of a violent half-orc with a terribly crude weapon, and a manner to match, a half-elf skilled at summoning magic, and, surprisingly, former Private Masozi from Captain El-Mofty’s original squad. It seems that the dear fairy Captain forgot the bounty that I placed on the deserter’s head. We shall have to have words about that, once she returns.

Working together, the three groups were able to slay all of the badger men, along with the single wolf, with only a single casualty. Though the report is unclear on the details, it seems they decided to join forces in order to explore the rest of the dungeon. A wise choice in the circumstances, but I must admit I am surprised Private Masozi agreed to the arrangement.

Returning the way they came, these new comrades discovered a most peculiar monster blocking the way forward. After some exhaustive research, Willikins has determined it must have been a creature called a “Gelatinous Cube”, or at least something approaching it. The thing’s ability to use spells suggests a more delightfully sinister heritage – perhaps it was even the remains of one of the lab’s researchers, mutated by long, excruciating experiments. Oh, forgive me, I grow a bit too excited.

The “heroes” of the other nations were quite cowardly, save for that half-elf, and avoided contact with the abomination. I am pleased to say that my pets were much more valiant. Lieutenant Gilbert Barkwin in particular lived up to your namesake, and pelted the thing with arrows from close range until it finally died. If only I had been there to hear its death cry, I’m sure it was marvelous.

Of course, while our unit was dealing with the blob, the idiot half-orc from Saran tripped a trap and released a menagerie of strange creatures into the halls. Willikins spares me a tedious description of each one, but assures me that they were most horrid. The half-elf summoned him aid, and with the help of such earth elementals as his ally could conjure, the brute managed to kill them all. It is disappointing that he failed to meet a bloody end, but I suppose such crude strength has its uses. More interesting is this “Luthion”, the half-elf. He seems most capable. Perhaps I shall have to investigate him further.

After they dealt with these threats, another mess occurred with the teams splitting up, reforming, and going in seemingly random directions, but suffice it to say that they eventually came together again in a hall with several solid, metal doors. The ugly brute proved his usefulness here, using a crowbar to open one of the portals, finding an emancipated elf inside. The fool was another would-be explorer, and ended up trapped in the room for weeks, surviving on rats and bugs, and going slowly insane. Oh, how wonderful.

The next door they opened contained a swarm of flying heads. I would have been much less excited about this, but their target was the half-orc, and they flew around him, biting and jabbering nonsense. It must have been hilarious. In the end, however, they were only heads, and the explorers killed them and explored the room. The hideous brute found a potion inside, and recklessly took a drink from it, causing his head to detach from his body and fly around jabbering. Willikins was quite descriptive on this point, and I fear that I shall be having nightmares about this for several weeks to come.

At last they found the mastermind behind all the crazed creatures and traps in the laboratory. Inside the third room was the soul of a deceased magician, inhabiting a writhing body of maggots, worms, and all manner of vermin. To their credit, none of the party ran at this sight, but instead promptly tried to kill the abomination. This is no surprise for Lieutenant Rirosorchalwen, of course. I’m sure that the present I gave to her was most displeased that such a creature existed.

The evil sorceror proved to be more than a match for even the combined forces of all three groups, and they could not so much as harm it, or its pet, a filthy construct made from rotting body parts. Of course, they may have done better had the revolting brute, undoubtedly their most physically powerful member, not been stuck as a flapping, jabbering head for the duration of the fight. As it is, Lieutenant Rirosorchalwen landed a solid hit on the mastermind and somehow made it just… vanish. She is either more skilled than I had originally thought, or incredibly lucky. Regardless, it seems I made a fine decision in choosing her to use that blade.

Once the crawling chaos had been dispersed, it was merely a matter of cleaning up the rest of the lab. They were able to defeat the rotting golem without much trouble, and a horrid, glowing lizard creature gave them a challenge in another part of the lab, but they eventually killed that as well, then scoured the rest of the lab for anything of interest.

Gaybreighal disappointed me with his lack of action throughout his stint with the party. I realize that that is, as one might say, his modus operandi, but he failed to disrupt his would-be allies at all. It seems that Lieutenant Barkwin traded him to Luthion for a whetstone. A whetstone. The half-elf even offered her a sum of gold, but she wanted the whetstone. Alas, but it isn’t too much of a loss. In fact, for the unit, it’s most certainly a net gain. What an amusing thought.

Overall, I must say that I am quite impressed with their skill, or at least their luck. I am still not entirely certain which of those is responsible for their success. Of course, according to Willikins, the rumored relic I sent them there for originally vanished along with the maggots, so calling it a “success” may be something of a stretch. They have at least proved their usefulness, and, looking back over this letter, I notice that I have even unconsciously learned several of their names. Perhaps they will continue to surprise me.

Is that information enough to quench your curiosity, Gilbert? If so, perhaps you could come visit me when you return. I long to see your face again, and I suspect you’d be eager to meet these recruits you’re so interested in. There is the matter of that horrible thing in the basement as well. I’d feel much safer if you were to look into it.

Eagerly awaiting your loving reply,
Alena

Gaybreighal brought the new recruits into the capitol today, just as planned. I had Willikins prepare the manor to look extra malevolent today, and their faces as the butler led them in were priceless. Though I had heard rumors, I must express that I hadn’t expected their leader, Captain El-Mofty, to be such a scarred mess. His presence in my mansion was unseemly, so I dismissed him without delay. The pure fury with which he exited was delightful. I wonder what he expected from me.

Once the nuisance was gone, I took a look over my new personal squad. Though strange and… diverse, they certainly seemed to have a certain, undefinable spunk to them. Their other captain, the fairy, seemed to think she was related to me in some way. The idea was quite amusing, I must admit, but her persistence quickly became annoying, so I gave them the brief version of their mission and quickly sent them away with Willkins and Gaybreighal. Perhaps if they manage to survive, I shall learn their names.

The Elf though, there was something special about her. Perhaps she isn’t as dim-witted as she first appeared. I asked her to stay behind while the others left, then presented her with the black blade uncovered by the previous expedition. She was delighted at the prospect of using such a beautiful weapon. That should prove to be quite the amusing experiment.

In your last letter to me, you expressed a desire to learn more about the newest recruits. Though I doubt they shall last very long, I will do my best to sate your curiosity. Anything for you.

According to Willikins’ most recent reports, their unit was but a day out of the capitol before getting ambushed by a pair of rather peculiar ruffians. It would seem that the Ghoran among them, Lieutenant Barkwin, had some trouble with these two before, and they wanted their revenge. It’s written here that they “wanted her lumber”. How delightful.

The two of them – Jack and Beck, it says here – were quite a bit more powerful than their last encounter, and they managed to beat Lieutenant Barkwin into unconsciousness. I wish I had been there to see that. The lumberjack thugs went down disappointingly quickly after that. At Captain Köhler’s orders they simply stripped them bare and left them alive. How dull.

Gaybreighal sat the battle out of course, hiding behind a tree. I know you disapprove of his methods, but I do wish he’d “participate” a bit more. Regardless, he should be able to complete his main purpose most admirably.

That is all the information I have for you now, love, but I look forward to Willikins’ next report, if just for another chance to write to you.

Pining for the time we can meet again,
Alena

Beloved Gilbert,

Those young officers you’re so interested in had another most interesting encounter. Are you familiar with the Zuvembie? It’s a type of undead that stands on cliffs and uses a siren song to lure adventurers to their doom. Elegant, is it not?

According to the latest report from Willikins’ network, a Zuvembie almost killed Gaybreighal just yesterday. I know my plans are hinging on him, but I cannot help being disappointed that he failed to meet such an amusing end. Lieutenant Barkwin was on watch at the time (apparently she doesn’t sleep, how intriguing), and managed to save little Sweetsheen from walking to his doom. Captain Köhler tried to make contact with the Zuvembie, surely with hilarious results, but some fancy jumping and slashing by Lieutenant Rirosorchalwen, and a few well aimed arrow from Lieutenant Barkwin destroyed it before it could do any real damage. They must be more skilled than I had originally thought. Willikins is not easily impressed.

I did some research on that question you asked in your last letter, and your suspicions were correct. Lieutenant Barkwin’s first name is Gilbert, just like your own. Gilbert Barkwin! What an amusing coincidence, if it is a coincidence.

We’ll have some much more entertaining news for you soon, love. My little unit is about to enter into the laboratory, and things will get really fun from there. I’m eager to write you about all the tragedies that befall them. I know you don’t like that sort of thing, but indulge me a little.

Missing you as always,
Alena.

Woke up the next morning and the bird was gone. Can’t say I’m sorry to see him go, and with Freya’s shield on the line it’s not like I’m gonna waste the manpower to send out a search party. I’ll just send some paperwork to Major Albrecht when we get back.

Anywho, forest was all weird that day. Sounded like a weeping child lost somewhere in the woods, and everything was all dark and foreboding. Put me off my breakfast, it did. The tree seemed to know what she was doing, and led us into the woods, so we all followed her. Got lost a few times, passed some of the same trees more than once, but Gilbert managed to break whatever spell it was and we found our culprit.

Bloody disturbing things, they were. Looked like children, but with horns, weeping eyes, and a crazy mangle-toothed smile. Three of them came out of the woods and surrounded us, the last one had what could only be Freya’s shield held all close, like it didn’t want it to get away.

My troop sprang into action. Made me proud, it did. Gilbert’s arrows flying, Riwen’s sword dancing, and Köhler doing her thing with the magic popping things. I joined in as well, slashing up a storm, but for all our attacks we couldn’t seem to kill these bastards. After a while of beating on them, one of them broke its claw on Gilbert’s bark, and it all went downhill for them from there. Eventually we got some good hits in and they all vanished in a puff of smoke, screaming like there’s no tomorrow. The last one left the shield though, and we headed back to Horstmar with our prize.

Markus Hofmeister wanted to congratulate us himself when we got back, and I told all the recruits to get their uniforms ready and meet up in the square for the awards ceremony. Freya’s shield was put back on her statue where it right belonged – this might be the proudest moment of my military career.

Everybody was looking sharp at the ceremony, and Markus took notice. Everybody except Gilbert but, y’know, it’s kind of hard to get that uniform to fit a tree so I guess it’s alright. Twigs and leaves poking out all over the place…

Anyway, Lord Markus went down the line and, surprisingly, started handing out some promotions. The Privates all got commissioned to Lieutenants, even Private Obsidian (LT Obsidian now), and bloody Köhler made it all the way up to Captain. By the time he made it to me my chest was all stuck out with pride and I was eagerly waiting for that promotion to Major I’d expected for years. Markus just shook my hand though, and congratulated me on such a sharp unit. I can’t believe I didn’t get a promotion for this! Hell, I can’t believe the bloody fairy is the same rank as me. What a disaster.

Seems like they want to see us in the capitol ASAP, even got a herald here from Dame Winther herself. Gaybreighal Sweetsheen, he said he was, and I wouldn’t trust the bastard as far as I could throw his little orange gnome rump. Dressed all like a priest, but he kept drinking and coughing and generally being a nuisance. Anyway, he’s going to take us to the capitol tomorrow to see his mistress. Hopefully I’ll not have to deal with him again after that.

The new Lieutenants were all up and ready at dawn, but we had to wait almost an hour before that Sweetsheen showed up. He’s an acting Captain, a Chaplain or something, so I can’t actually do anything, but I’ll be damned if he doesn’t rustle my jimmies. Despite the late start we made pretty good time – should be there in four days or so.

Traveling had been going pretty well I suppose. Sweetsheen was foul company, jus’ rode in Gilbert’s branches all day, drank, and coughed up a storm. The rest of the unit was pretty amenable company though, and I got to spend more time with Riwen, so that’s a plus.

Anywho, we were about halfway to the capitol, walking through a small forest, when Gaybreighal started acting weird. I stared at him for a bit before realizing that a nearby tree was trying to get his attention. A woman made of wood stepped out then – not a tree woman like Gilbert, this one was much shapelier, more like a human made of wood than a tree made of human, or somethin’.

Turns out these dryads, as she said she was, were having trouble with big lanky trolls who would hide in the canopy and drop down on any dryad who left their tree, then have their way with her. No sooner ’ad she finished explaining than we looked up and saw three of the ugly brutes looking right down at us. They roared something fierce and dropped, straight onto all the female members of the unit.

Gilbert was ready, and stuck one good in the stomach as it fell, but was flanked by that one and another, and the wound was already starting to heal. She’d been through worse I figured though, so after Riwen, Köhler, Lieutenant Obsidian and I killed one of them, I bummed off with Sweetsheen to a nearby tree to watch the rest of the fight.

The Gnome was friendlier than I expected, once we actually got to talking. He said that maybe they were just waiting for me to get to the capitol to give me my promotion and, y’know, that makes sense. He got me feeling a lot better so I left him to flirt with the dryad and got back into the fight. There wasn’t much left fer me to do at that point, so I just helped mop up the rest. Gilbert had taken some good hits, and was slouched over all unconscious like, but she’d probably be fine. Köhler finally ended the fight by sticking that teeny sword of hers right into the troll’s back, then heating it up so the brute lit on fire. Right impressive, it was.

I got a hell of a surprise this morning. Woke up to Lieutenant Barkwin poking me in the side, then rolled over to see another me lookin’ straight at me. I yelled and stoop up, and this bastard did the exact same thing. Like looking in a mirror, it was. The rest of the unit was up by now, and gathered around to watch with infuriating bemused expressions on their bloody faces.

I straight up told them to kill the imposter, but the other me did the same thing. Clever bastard. Eventually Captain Köhler came up with the bright idea to ask a question only the real Benyamin would know. Pissed me off right good though, when she asked where I stored my pornography, and I told her as much. My double, though, stuttered for a second before copying me, and Gilbert put an arrow in him right then and there.

The thing changed then, turning into a creepy smooth skinned person with gray skin and a smooth face. Damned creepy, it was. It tried to get away, but the others gave chase and Barkwin, taking my order to kill it to heart, put a few more arrows in its back before it collapsed and started to melt away.

Blasted weird morning, it was.

We almost made it to the capitol today, were practically right outside when another bloody suit of armor picked a fight with me. It came out of a nearby wall, clanking and waving a gigantic flail around like it was nothing.

As usual, Gilbert was quick on the draw, and the thing had two arrows in it before it even got to us. Armor creature or no, with the whole unit working together we took it down right fast. Sweetsheen just sat in the corner as usual, but I have a hard time believing Dame Winther would send someone so incompetent. Mebbe he’s her idea of a joke.

We arrived in the capitol last night, stayed in a nice inn and I got to sleep in a real bed for the first time in god knows when. Sweetsheen woke up late again, then took us up to Dame Winther’s manor.

Big place, it was, covered in ivy and with a huge garden and all the trappings. No sooner had we gotten to the door than it was opened by a creepy-looking elf, all legs and arms, and with a bald head and an oiled goatee. He led us inside without saying a word, and the interior was just as creepy. Tastefully decorated and nice and all, but the darkness and candles and whole air of malevolence really spoiled the mood.

Alena was waiting in something like an audience chamber at the top of the stairs. She was shorter than I expected, even shorter than me, and I’m not the tallest Elf ye’ll ever meet. Introductions were had and she seemed really pleased to meet the new officers. Thanked me, and then dismissed me. Dismissed me! The nerve!

No promotion for me, no glory for old El-Mofty! That Sweetsheen bastard even said he was sorry about the promotion as I stormed out of the room. Took everything I had not to sock him a good one. I’ll obey orders, don’t get me wrong, but this is a disgrace to Freystadt. They’ll not have seen the last of me, mark my words.

Tonight was a strange night. There I was, alone in the barracks, writin’ up a formal letter to his grace Markus Hofmeister. The brass wanted to come inspect the garrison here in Horstmar, heaven knows why. There ain’t nothing here but me and a bunch of rusty bedframes. Well, I needn’t ’ave worried, since that very night a veritable menagerie of privates came with orders to my unit.

The first one was some sort of fairy. I’ve heard of their type before, insist they used to be human, but I ain’t convinced. She seemed plenty energetic though, and had a sheaf of orders signed by Boris Siegward himself, so I couldn’t exactly turn her away. I’ll ‘ave to do something about that whole “Lieutenant” notion she’s got though.

Second up was a talking bird. Handsome bastard, if a bit odd. Black feathers all up his arms. I took one look at the fellow and knew he’d be trouble. Got a cocky air to him, a lot like most birds I’ve seen, actually. He had orders here too, though Maiden knows why they chose to send him here.

Then there was the tree. Strangest of the lot, it was. Curved all like a woman, but said its name was Gilbert Barkwin, and had orders with that name and everything. Don’t really know what to make of it, but I hafta wonder what the honorable Gilbert Hardwin would say if he knew. The tree was the most level-headed of the lot, oddly enough, so that’s all right I guess.

The last recruit was an Elf. Nothin’ special about her, just an Elf with a nifty sword. Glad to see they didn’t send me nothing but freaks. She says ‘er name is Rirosorchalwen, or somethin’, and the orders say “Rinfanfannal”, but I ain’t gonna make a stink about it. She seems a decent sort, but may not have much between the ears, if you know what I mean.

Well I sent all those misfits off, gave them leave until tomorrow and showed them where the barracks were, then went back to my letter. At least they all had uniforms and weapons, don’t have to worry about that. Have to wonder where the fairy got clothes that small, though.

Finished my letter just a little while back and went into the barracks to get some sleep. Walked in to find that blasted fairy hovering over my bed, with all my “special books” just laid out all over it. That Riwen lass was just standin’ by, too, though she looked more concerned than amused, I’ll give ’er that.

I darn demoted that fairy, made ‘er a Sergeant, rather than Lieutenant, even though she wasn’t a Lt in the first place, and I don’t really ’ave that authority. Anyway, I sent her off and cleaned up the books, then sat on my bed and watched the rest of the misfits till they went to sleep. That feathered fellow, Masozi I think it is, looks shifty as ’ell.

Got a letter from that nice Halfling woman over at the dairy. She says something’s been stealin’ her cheese. I’ll send the new blood over to check it out today. Doubt it’s anythin’ important, but not like they have anything better to do.

Reports were received of cheese disappearing from the local dairy in a most suspicious manner. The Horstmar garrison was dispatched to investigate the issue, comprised of Private Masozi, Private Barkwin, Private Riwen, Sergeant Köhler, and Private Obsidian.

Upon searching the dairy, the unit discovered a large hole in the wall, approximately half the height of a grown man, with another hole inside leading to the sewers. Further investigation revealed a group of four goblins, gathered around a tiny chair in which a rat had been restrained. The goblins were engaged in interrogating said rat about the location of “the cheese”. Three goblins was summarily dispatched, and the rat secured for further questioning. One goblin escaped, and the unit followed in hot pursuit.

After navigating a maze of traps, in which Private Obsidian was grievously injured by a clever array involving a tightened vine and spikes on the ceiling, the unit arrived at a den located deep in the sewers. Within the den was another troop of three goblins, and a large humanoid confirmed by Private Barkwin to be a Mongrelman. It was at this point that they chose to interrogate the rat. Sergeant Köhler displayed impressive aptitude in communicating with animals, but was unable to extract any useful information.

Their other options being exhausted, Private Masozi charged into the den and killed all three goblins with a burst of negative energy (note: further investigation into this point), then beat the Mongrelman into unconsciousness with the help of the others. Based upon evidence recovered at the scene, the Mongrelman has been confirmed as the culprit behind the recent cheese disappearances, and has been disposed of.

That whole cheese thing turned out to be a lot more troublesome than I expected, but the recruits handled it well enough. More important is this map they got from one of the goblins. It’s crude, and looks like it’s drawn in crayon, but this ‘ere "Shield Lady’s House" matches up with the legends of Freya’s Tomb I’ve heard around here. It definitely could use some further investigating. Not like we have anything better to do.

That bird worries me too. Seems like they found a lot of treasure, and he’s got it all, but he isn’t letting on. I’ll worry about that later, doesn’t seem like it’s worth a fight.

For now though, I’ve got to get the recruits ready. Markus Hofmeister himself is coming for an inspection tomorrow, and I’ll be damned if I let this lot make me look bad in front of the brass.

The inspection went about as well as could be expected, with new recruits like this. Hofmeister was totally unflapped by the motley, not like we could tell anyway, with that helmet of his. The bird was causing trouble again, and Riwen’s uniform looked terrible, but Köhler presented ‘erself well, and her uniform looked fantastic. I made her a Lieutenant again after that, hope I don’t regret it.

Should I be worried that the only one who came close to matching Köhler’s military bearing was Private Obsidian? I mean, he’s a fox…

Gave the recruits the rest of the day off. We’ll go check out the tomb tomorrow.

To: Major Albrecht
Incident Report: Ale Disaster Averted

Today there was a large collection of ale barrels near the center of Horstmar, waiting for delivery to the capitol. Privates Masozi, Barkwin, and Riwen were all off duty, and speaking with the guard, when a goblin burst from the wall of a nearby warehouse and ran toward the barrels of alcohol, carrying a lit bomb over its head.

Private Barkwin killed the goblin with an arrow through its eye, but the bomb fell from its hand and continued toward the barrels. Fortunately, Lieutenant Köhler was passing by, riding Private Obsidian, and defused the bomb with a magic spell. The recruits were given a barrel of ale as thanks.

Private Barkwin was using her off-duty time to further explore Horstmar when, in the industrial district, she was assaulted by the wanted criminals, Jack and Beck, the Lumberjack Twins. Though put off by their axes, and comments about her “lumber”, Barkwin fought them off with the help of Private Masozi, who was in the area at the time.

To: Major Albrecht
Incident Report: Catburglar Apprehended

The catburglar responsible for a chain of thefts across Horstmar was apprehended today by Private Riwen, when she discovered him attempting to steal from the barracks. Though noted for his feline grace, the burglar fell from the roof of the garrison directly in front of Riwen. A short chase ensued, until the burglar once again fell off a different roof, and was apprehended by the Private.

After a short discussion that verified his identity and guilt, the burglar was handed over to the city guard.

Our trip to the tomb was interrupted tonight by a bunch of zombies who ‘ad the nerve to attack our campsite in the middle of the night. Fortunately Barkwin was on watch, I hear she doesn’t sleep, and she got the rest of us up in time to fight back.

Zombies are just zombies, poor gits left over from the old days of Karzak, and we took ‘em out pretty easily. Some mighty fine fighting from the new recruits, I’ll give them that, though Riwen almost got taken out when three of the bastards got ‘er surrounded. Fortunately Köhler used some sort of mumbo-jumbo and blew one of them to dust, givin’ the Elf a way out. Masozi healed her wounds too, can’t say I expected that from ’im.

We found the tomb today, almost missed it, buried under a bunch of bushes and whatnot. Of course we took a look inside, and found it branches as soon as you get down there. Bein’ an experienced military man myself, I suggested the recruits go one way, and I go the other. We’d meet up in the middle later.

So they went on their merry way, and I headed off to the right. Soon as I stepped into the next hall a whole bunch of helmets started flyin’ all over the place. Put me off my lunch it did. One of the little buggers got itself over my head, and had me stumbling around and knocking into walls and just ‘avin a horrible time. Took me a while but I managed to bust up those things, they weren’t very tough after I got me bearings.

‘Course the next room wasn’t any better. Big ol’ black things, like flying squids with bat wings and way too many teeth, came swooping down and tried to eat my head. I’d had enough of that after the helmet, and this ‘ere sword ain’t just for show. I managed to kill two of the bastards, and the others all flew away, shrieking up a storm.

There were some traps after that, but nothing I ain’t seen before. The real challenge was that giant suit of armor that tried to kill me when I got through. Bloody stubborn thing it was, I ‘ad to knock off its arms and legs, got a few flesh wounds myself, before it’d stop moving. The creepy blood on the walls and terrible smell didn’t help either.

After all that I met up with the recruits again. They looked almost as bad as I did, and there was this nasty slime stuff all over the place. Masozi in particular looked miserable, but he had some new armor on and a fancier spear, so I figure it all worked out.

Anyway, seems like Freya’s shield is gone, and I’m betting whatever did it is the same thing that killed all those goblins and put blood all over the walls. Whatever it is, it couldn’ta gotten that far, not with the blood being this fresh. We’ll see if we can track it down tomorrow.

The Horstmar garrison, under my guidance, has discovered Freya’s lost tomb north of the town. We conducted a thorough exploration of the premises, with the recruits, consisting of Private Masozi, Private Riwen, Private Obsidian, Lieutenant Köhler, and Private Barkwin, forming one unit, and myself forming the other. We split paths at the first intersection.

For both units, the first room consisted of several suits of armor with helmets animated by some sort of magic. The helms were fragile and easily dispatched, though Private Barkwin had a single incident of one helm covering her head while two others bludgeoned her from the sides.

Also infesting the tomb were several nocturnal scavengers, identified by Lieutenant Köhler as being Darkmantles. A single darkmantle almost devoured Köhler, and the others dealt some minor damage to the rest of the unit, but they were all slain before they could retreat to the ceiling, and the Lieutenant emerged mostly unscathed.

Upon finding the resting place of the holy Maiden, the recruit’s unit was assaulted by a pack of feral, decomposing goblin zombies, covered in purple pustules. These abominations were identified by Private Masozi as Festrogs, and were likely created when the goblins were killed by some powerful source of dark energy, then left for the darkmantles to scavenge upon.

The unit killed each zombie with some effort, discovering that, upon being defeated, they explode into a mass of foul-smelling slime. Private Masozi and Private Obsidian both made contact with the slime, and will be watched for any further developments.

Further evidence of something evil having desecrated the tomb can be found in the bloodstains across the walls. These form disturbing patterns, such as demonic faces, and phrases such as “Help me mommy” and “Make it stop” scrawled in a child’s handwriting. Freya’s body and shield were also discovered as missing, with more blood inside the casket, and a vial of clear, salty liquid, suspected to be tears.

It is expected that, due to the freshness of the blood on the walls, we will still be able to catch the culprit and recover Freya’s shield. Updates will be sent at regular intervals.